


Working on the New Equation

by Angelise (angelise7)



Series: Longing [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Altered Character History, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Developing Relationship Anthony DiNozzo/Jethro Gibbs, Developing Relationship Jethro Gibbs/Gerald Jackson, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Anthony DiNozzo/Gerald Jackson, Feelings, Humor, M/M, NCIS Seasons 1-2 only, Pets, Pre-Threesome, Season 2 Episodes 20-23, Sex between all three men is only hinted at, Threesome - M/M/M, Very few sex scenes and those are M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-05-26 18:29:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6250738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelise7/pseuds/Angelise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerald and Tony are now secure in their love for one another. That being said, Gerald knows Tony still has feelings for Gibbs and because he'll do anything to keep Tony happy, he's invited Gibbs into their relationship.</p><p>Now there's a new equation in their lives, 1 + 1, Tony and Gibbs. The possibility that the equation would alter to include him has Gerald confused and re-evaluating both his relationship with Tony and with Gibbs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Second Guessing the New Equation

**Author's Note:**

> 6-7-2016 This sequel is now complete. As I indicate in the notes of the last chapter, I will continue to visit this universe I've created. If you have any ideas for future glimpses into their lives, please don't hesitate to let me know in the comments. And yes, a visit to the Annual Jackson Family Reunion is already on the list! ;-)
> 
>  
> 
> Finally! The long awaited sequel to [Longing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4638195). Yeah!! 
> 
> Now, for those of you who have not read the story this sequel is based on, I strongly suggest that you do. It will not make any sense if you don't.
> 
> Plus just a reminder . . . this takes place within the first two seasons of this show. All information learned about our characters after those seasons may not be reflected in this story. 
> 
> As always, major hugs of appreciation to all of you who spend your precious time with my stories! Your comments are greatly welcomed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a year and Gerald makes good on his promise to Gibbs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This specific chapter takes place before, during and after the last [chapter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4638195/chapters/11248063) of Longing. You may want to re-read that to refresh your memory.

  

**Text Conversation between Gerald and his twin sister, Genevieve.**

 

8:39am **Gerald** – made it!               

                          plane arrived on time

                          tony SNORED the whole way

                          remind me to NEVER take another overnight flight

                          back is killing me

 

8:42am **Genevieve** – Thnx 4 letting me know.

                                 The pic of T-love is adorable! 

 

9:37am **Gerald** – screw up with rental agency but finally on our way

                           nervous as hell

                           tony beyond nervous

                           can’t sit still

                           won’t shut up

 

10:21am **Genevieve** – U okay?

 

+++++++++++++++++

  

10:53am **Gerald** – here at the marina

                             tony grinning like an idiot

 

10:53am **Gerald** –  idiot in love with Him

 

11:01am **Genevieve** – That pic’s a keeper.

                                   Bro? Answer me.

 

11:19am **Gerald** – later

  

++++++++++++++++++

  

11:37am **Gerald** – boat is bad ass

                            ducky brought BOYFRIEND!!!

                            brain imploded when they kissed

 

11:43am **Genevieve** – OMG! That sly devil.

 

11:44am **Genevieve** – Thnx for blinding me w/that pic!

 

11:49am **Gerald** – welcome  **;-)**

++++++++++++++++++

  

5:33pm **Gerald** – 5 hours on a boat is 5 hours TOO LONG

                           tony is loving it

 

5:43pm **Gerald** – sunset incredible

                           colors look fucking amazing

 

6:01pm **Genevieve** – Is that Him sitting behind T-love?

 

6:15pm **Gerald** – yes

 

++++++++++++++++++

  

7:27pm **Gerald** – tony keeps hugging and kissing Him

 

7:27pm **Gerald** – hurts

 

7:27pm **Gerald** – fuck

 

7:49pm **Genevieve** – Call me! Now!

 

++++++++++++++++++

  

8:53pm **Gerald** – going to His place for the night

 

8:53pm **Gerald** – time to face the music

 

10:12pm **Genevieve** – Gerald Jackson! You call me right NOW!

 

10:12pm **Genevieve** – Bro, I will KICK YOUR ASS if you don’t call me right now!

 

++++++++++++++++++

  

11:28pm **Genevieve** – G, please call me.

 

11:28pm **Genevieve** – Don’t make me sic Mom on u!

 

11:29pm **Genevieve** – I can’t even begin to understand how difficult this is 4 u

 

11:29pm **Genevieve** – HUGS! HUGS! HUGS!

 

11:31pm **Gerald** – luv u sis

                             night

  

Gerald slipped his phone into his back pocket the second the light in the kitchen went out. Gibbs stepped into the living room with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. The man was still damp from a recent shower, evidenced by the navy blue pajama bottoms clinging to his legs and the droplets of water captured in the graying hairs on his naked chest.

Their eyes met and he forced a smile he didn’t feel. He knew what was about to happen. During the past 365 days he had reflected on this very exact moment – had debated it, regretted it, accepted it, visualized it, and agonized over it.

365 days and nights of mental and emotional indecision.

And Tony wondered why he had taken up surfing.

He closed his eyes. God, what he wouldn’t do for a mammoth wave right now – anything to distract him from what was about to happen in that bedroom down the hallway.

Leaning forward on the couch, he rested his elbows on his knees and dragged his hands down over his face while essentially ignoring his host. His eyes latched onto a spot on the floor and wouldn’t budge from it

_Wonder what’s going on at home?_

Their last Gibbs-free day had been spent together – a lazy day of playing the tourist followed by a night of sweet, gentle lovemaking – 24 hours of memories to keep him sane during his first night away from Tony since they’d made the decision to move to San Diego.

“Jackson?”

“Night, Gibbs.”

A white porcelain coffee mug emblazoned with the Marine seal and sporting a chipped rim was set down on the coffee table in front of him. A half-empty bottle of bourbon joined it.

He let out a faint, aborted bark of laughter.

“You trying to get me drunk?” He’d already inhaled three beers with supper, plus the celebratory champagne Ducky had insisted they drink after christening Gibbs’ boat.

“Would it help?”

His gaze went straight to the hallway and the bed he couldn’t see but could damn well imagine. Just like he could imagine the naked body that was more than likely already sprawled across it and imagine the ass that was once his exclusively prepped and ready to be claimed by the man standing before him.

“Maybe?”

“There’s another bottle in the basement if . . .” Gibbs fell silent.

“Yeah, thanks.”

The two of them stared at each other for several minutes, and surprisingly it was Gibbs who looked away first. Gerald let loose a shark’s grin but before he could congratulate himself on intimidating the Almighty Gibbs, he realized the man had looked away because he’d heard Tony calling for him.

 _Shit_.

Closing his eyes again, he swore he felt his heart fracture just a tiny bit.

“Gibbs, if you hurt him . . .”

“I won’t.”

He reached for the bottle but saw that his hand was trembling. He snatched it back and shoved it under his thigh because he’d be damned if he allowed Gibbs to witness any sign of weakness.

A callused finger traced his cheek.

“You know you’re wel---”

“NO!”

Gerald forced himself to take a deep breath and as soon as that was done, he then convinced his fists into unclenching. “I mean, thanks but no thanks. We’ve discussed this. It’s Tony that wants you, not me. Not now, at least.”

_Shit. Did I just leave the door open?_

Gibbs silently watched him for a few seconds while sipping coffee from his mug. The man’s astute gaze no doubt discerned every thought going through his head and examined the emotions driving his heart to beat erratically out of control.

“Your decision.”

“Yeah, yeah it is. Night, Gibbs.”

_Would you please get your sorry ass out of here? It’s time for me to get drunk, very, **very** drunk._

“Gerald?”

_Ah, hell. He’s using my Christian name._

“What?”

“You’re removing yourself from the equation.”

_Damn bastard. Quoting his words back at him._

“Well, tonight it’s one plus one equals two. You and Tony.”

“Your math, not mine.”

_It’s the only math that matters if it keeps Tony happy._

The second his host disappeared from sight, he was up, grabbing for the bottle and hightailing it out of the room. He swore he heard Tony call out his name, but he slammed the door on that, literally.

Leaning his head against the basement’s closed door, he panted for breath while swallowing down the sounds that would reveal his emotional destruction.

_God, I know what I said. Give me a year and I’ll be ready to share. Ready to share the man I love beyond comprehension. Share Tony with . . . **Him**._

He stumbled down the stairs and took a seat on the third one up from the bottom before hugging the bottle of bourbon to his chest.

_I was wrong._

 

Final text sent from Gerald to his twin sister, Genevieve.

 

11:55pm **Gerald** – I don’t think I can do this

 

-end-

 


	2. Packing Away the Old Equation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time to move back home and Gibbs has come to San Diego to assist in the endeavor.

  

“Tony called to say he’d be home tomorrow. His team’s wrapping up their assignment and will be back on American soil tomorrow afternoon. He said he’d swing by the apartment and the two of you would head out to the U-Haul place.”

Gerald dug out his keys and unlocked the door to their apartment. “I’ve rented the truck for five days. Should be enough time, right?”

“That depends on who’s driving,” Gibbs answered with a deliberate grin.

“Guess I’ll be following in the car, ‘cause both you and I know Tony is going to call ‘shotgun’.”

He held open the door and allowed Gibbs to proceed him into the apartment. The man came to a complete stop a few feet inside.

“You have a cat.”

Chuckling, Gerald closed the door and, after easing the duffle bag off the older man’s shoulder, introduced him to the most important member of their growing family. Tony, of course, up until six months ago, had held that position but when met with the haughty stare of one certain, rain-drenched, omnipotent feline had, albeit reluctantly, relinquished the title.

“Gibbs, Higgins. Higgins, Gibbs.”

He stopped to pay homage to the ageing cat sitting at the end of the foyer, scratching underneath the chin and behind both ears. The lazy swish of a tail informed him his tribute had been accepted and he was free to enter their humble abode. The same could not be said of Gibbs.

“You have a cat.”

“So it seems.”

He dumped Gibbs’ duffle bag in the spare bedroom and took a moment to inspect the sheets, making sure Tony had remade the bed with the fresh set he’d washed and dried earlier in the week. He smoothed out a wrinkle and unnecessarily re-fluffed the pillows he’d fluffed that very morning, knowing full well the mundane actions would do nothing to distract him from envisioning the activities this room would lay witness to tomorrow night.

“Jackson!”

He hurried back into the hallway and found Gibbs still standing in the foyer.

“Something wrong?”

“Your cat, that’s what wrong.”

Hiding his smile, he admonished the black Tabby safeguarding the entrance to their home. “Higgins, let the good man pass.”

The cat tilted his head to the side and examined Gibbs for several seconds before declaring him satisfactory. Licking his right paw, he smoothed his whiskers, yawned and, after a rather telling flick of his bushy tail that plainly indicated cats rule, humans drool, exited the hallway.

“Am I to assume I’ve passed muster?”

“For the time being.” Gerald indicated the living room-slash-dining area-slash-kitchen that was to their left. “Higgins is quite snooty when it comes to strangers. Don’t be surprised if he totally ignores you.”

“Not a problem.”

Gibbs examined the large open area and the pile of boxes piled closest to the patio doors. “How much is left to pack?”

“Mostly just the furniture.”

Briefly closing his eyes, Gerald let out a sigh of sadness while running one hand along the back of the over-sized rocking chair they had convinced Mr. Solo to sell to them before moving to San Diego.

“I’m seriously going to miss this place,” he whispered more to himself than to his guest.

Truthfully, it wasn’t the apartment he was going to miss so much as it was the _home_ he and Tony had created -- the friends that were now family -- the early mornings in the kitchen snatching a kiss, a hug, a cup of coffee before flying out the door -- the late evenings sitting on the beach, arms wrapped around each other as they watched the sun set over the ocean.

He walked over to the patio doors and stared at their tiny backyard. There was a grill, a small picnic table and two-person glider. How many weekends had been spent out there, sitting at the table enjoying the meal they had cooked on the grill while discussing his classes or Tony’s current case? How many times had they ended their days falling asleep on the glider to awake to a sky full of stars? He glanced back at the man measuring the length of their couch.

_Yeah, I’m **seriously** going to miss this place._

The decision had been made to return home. He would continue his studies at ITT for there was a campus in Springfield, VA that was only a half hour away from NCIS headquarters. Tony, of course, would resume his previous position on Gibbs’ team. His request for transfer had been expedited by Director Morrow after a rather lengthy visit with the man before their return to San Diego. His lover had never commented on what had been said in that meeting but he was pretty damn sure Gibbs had also had a hand in greasing the wheels of bureaucracy, thus endearing himself even more to Tony.

_Stop._

He tugged on the braided chain of brightly colored threads Mick had presented to him the day he conquered his fear and surfed the Mavericks. The bracelet was now his personal reminder of his need to conquer the Green Monster of Jealousy that raised its head on more than one occasion since he’d invited Gibbs into his relationship with Tony.

“This is a really nice rocking chair. Excellent craftsmanship. Where did you get it?”

The sight of Gibbs sitting in _their_ rocking chair -- the chair in which he and Tony had sat together first as friends and then as lovers, the chair that had witnessed their uncertainties and then their joy in discovering their love for each other -- something snapped inside of him and he bolted for the door.

“I’ll be back in a few. Make yourself comfortable. The cable hasn’t been shut off yet, so . . . uh,   watch the news or a movie. I’ll be . . . I’ve got my cell if you need something before I get back. Extra door key on the hook by . . . ”

The door slammed behind him and . . .

. . .  he ran.

 

+++++++

 

The sun was kissing the edge of the ocean by the time he noticed the man sitting in the sand beside him. Gibbs sat with elbows resting on his bent knees, one hand dangling between his legs, holding the ever familiar Starbucks coffee cup. His shirt was half unbuttoned, allowing a glimpse of the white t-shirt worn beneath. His graying hair had been seriously disarrayed by the breeze coming up from the shore and probably for the first time ever, the man looked relaxed and at peace with himself and his surroundings.

“I fed your cat.”

Turning his head to the side and resting it on his own bent knees, Gerald faced Gibbs and allowed a small smile.

“Higgins threatened you with his death glare, didn’t he?”

“I’d say that was an accurate description.”

He returned his gaze to the ocean and the few remaining surfers still waiting to capture that final big wave. “How did you find me?”

Gibbs set his coffee cup to the side and stretched out his legs. “I followed when you left.” Bracing his arms behind him, he stared up at the sky. “Watched you for about a half hour before heading back to the apartment and storing away my gear.”

The man dropped his head and turned to look at him, those startling blue eyes of his hidden behind the shades he wore. “I was watching the news when your cat appeared out of nowhere and damn near scared the shit out of me.”

Gerald smiled again and this time the smile was one of honest amusement. Taking a deep breath, he felt the tension ease from his neck, shoulders and arms. Releasing the hold he had on his knees, he dropped his hands and began to draw aimlessly in the sand. “That cat, in case you hadn’t figured it out yet, will soon be _your_ cat. Where we go, Higgins goes.”

“I may be older than you but I’m not senile. Yeah, I realized the cat is going with us.” Gibbs reached for his coffee cup and drained it dry before continuing, “Called Ducky while you were out here communing with the ocean. He’s picking up some food, a bed, and a couple of those silly toys filled with catnip. Also a litter box and some industrial strength odor absorbers.” He dug the bottom of his empty cup into the sand before asking, “Anything else?”

Gerald swore his heart took a slight stumble with that statement. Was Gibbs actually making the effort to welcome Higgins into his home? “You realize we’ll be bringing all of our cat stuff, right?”

A grunt that was pure annoyance was his only answer.

Minutes passed and it became harder and harder to breach the wall of silence. It was Gibbs who took matters into his own hands — literally.

“Jackson.”

His right hand was captured and held tight. Looking up, he found Gibbs had removed his shades and was looking straight at him.

“I don’t claim to know what’s going on in that brain of yours but know this . . . I want you  . . .” Gibbs’ mouth curved to the side with one of his rare smiles . . . “and Higgins to feel at home in my house. I know you and I aren’t intimately involved with each other, not yet at least, and whether you believe it or not, I am hoping that situation will change in the near future. But even with all of that said, I need you to know that whatever this is, we _are_ family. You, me, Tony, Higgins. Family.”

The hand that held his captive released it, slid up his arm and curved around the back of his neck. With a gentle tug, Gibbs had him tucked against his side and for the next hour, the two of them sat together watching the sun set over the ocean.

On the walk home, they occasionally brushed up against each other and Gerald found himself watching Gibbs out of the corner of his eye. He still wasn’t a hundred percent sure about his decision to include the older man in their relationship but for Tony, he was willing to try. He loved Tony and would do anything to make him happy.

Hopefully that didn’t mean permanently removing himself from the equation so that Gibbs could take his place.

 

-end-

 


	3. Saying Farewell to the Old Equation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time to say farewell to their life in San Diego but before they go Tony takes time to reassures Gerald of his importance in his life.

 

 

Tony closed the door on the staring contest between Jethro and Higgins. Badass NCIS Special Agent versus Feline Emperor of the Universe. There was no doubt in his mind who the winner of that particular contest would be.

“Yeah, Jethro’s got the balls but Higgins’ got the claws.”

Chuckling, he made a final round of their apartment, checking all rooms and closets for anything they might have missed while packing. In the master bedroom closet he discovered a t-shirt with its sleeves and bottom cut off and the faded logo of Gerald’s favorite surf shop printed on the front. He tucked it in his back pocket before exiting the walk-in closet.

For a moment he stared at the spot where their full-size bed had resided, then glanced at the adjoining bathroom. “We had some **damn** good times in these two rooms and to be honest, it’s a wonder our neighbors didn’t report us for all the noise we made.”

He moved to the bare wall and ran his fingers over the divots the bed’s headboard had carved into the surface. He grinned when he caught sight of the numerous scratches marring the paint. “Those handcuffs were a great addition to our collection, G-man. Can’t wait to try them on Jethro.”

His next stop was the apartment’s second bedroom. It still held the twin size bed left behind by the previous renters. Gerald’s Bowflex machine had stood to the side of the bed but was now secured in the U-Haul parked outside.

“Can’t even count how many times I jerked off on that bed while watching you work out. And those time I convinced you to work out naked? Pretty damn sure your Bowflex is stained with the physical evidence of my _appreciation_ of your awesome physique.”

He leaned down and patted the mattress with sincere fondness. “Good times, G-man. Good times.”

Finally he gave in to the inevitable and made his way to the front door where Gerald stood waiting for him.

“Even though I’m looking forward to us moving in with Jethro, I’m still gonna miss all of this. Just you and me, Higgins, this apartment. ”

He winked at his lover. “Hell, I’m even gonna miss the surfing despite the fact I fell off my board more than I stayed on it.”

He advanced upon Gerald, warning him with a smile that dictated the need for a definite delay in departure. Gerald saw the smile and held up a hand in warning.

“Gibbs is waiting, Tony.”

“Stop calling him Gibbs. It’s Jethro, and he can wait until I’m damn well ready to leave.”

He backed Gerald against the door and commenced an oral tour of his jaw and throat, biting lightly before smoothing over his lover’s dark skin with his tongue. “This is how we christened this place on the day we moved in.” Shoving Gerald’s shirt up, he attacked his tits the second they came into sight. “Do you remember? We crossed the threshold and nearly set the place on fire, we were so hot for each other.”

He not only welcomed Gerald’s groan of gratitude but also the hands that dropped to his head and guided him to the areas that desperately needed the attention of his mouth. By the time he was finished torturing his man’s upper torso, Gerald was banging his fists on the door behind him. Tony grinned.

“I remember you were naked before I could even get my shoes and socks off. You presented me with that fine ass of yours, G-man, and it was all I could do not to come in my pants.”

He quickly took care of releasing Gerald from his tight jeans, shoving them and his underwear down his legs. Dropping to his knees, he tongued Gerald’s navel before burying his face in his man’s groin and inhaling his unique scent.

“Thank God I still had that sample of hand lotion I took from the last hotel we stayed in. It came in damn handy, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, it . . . Jesus! Stop with the yapping, Slick.”

Trembling fingers gripped his chin and directed his mouth to the erection that was blatantly waving at him. He happily devoured it before pulling back and teasing the head with the tip of his tongue.

“Suck me, you asshole. Now. Before Gibbs comes looking.”

Minutes sped by as he did as he was commanded and by the time he leaned back and allowed his most favorite toy in all the world to slip from his mouth it was all he could do to keep Gerald standing upright. “Again . . . his name is Jethro, and I sure as hell wish he would come looking. Want him to watch me suck you senseless.”

He opened his mouth, ready to drain Gerald dry, but instead, found himself falling on his ass and grabbing at his head, checking to see exactly how much hair he was missing.

“Ow, ow, **ow**! What the hell?!?”

He rubbed his smarting scalp and frowned when he noted his favorite toy had totally lost interest in the current proceedings. His frown deepened at the sight of the emotional shutdown taking place on Gerald’s face while he restored his clothes to right.

“Talk to me, G-man. What’s wrong?”

Gerald tugged down his shirt. “Time’s a-wasting. Not to mention, Gibbs is _not_ a patient man. I don’t doubt . . .”

He covered Gerald’s heart with his hand and used just the slightest pressure to push him back against the door. “What’s going on in that head of yours? Are you re-thinking this thing with Jethro?”

Immediately, Gerald snapped his head up and his eyes went wide with . . . Concerned beyond measure, Tony stared at his lover. Was that fear he saw in his eyes? Fear of what? He looked again; maybe it wasn’t fear of what but fear of _whom_?

He coaxed Gerald into taking a seat on the floor. He waited until the man was situated before straddling his lap and wrapping his arms around shoulders that were stiffening with each breath his lover took.

“ _What we‘ve got here is a failure to communicate_.” Pulling back so he could see his lover’s face, he waited for the usual roll of the eyes but none came. Tony frowned. Gerald never failed to roll his eyes upon hearing him quote one of his favorite movies. Whatever this was, was damn serious.

Another hug was offered. “We’re not going anywhere until you talk to me.” He touched two fingers to Gerald’s lips and prevented him from replying.

“No . . . just no. This is you and me here. Let’s leave Jethro outside with Higgins, okay?”

Gerald kissed his fingertips before turning his head and looking away.

Minutes ticked by with the silence broken only by sighs of avoidance. He was confused and frustrated to the max, and, yeah, it went without saying, their traveling companion was probably chomping at the bit, but he was not moving until Gerald explained what was bothering him.

“I love you, G-man. Love you so fucking much.” He set his mouth to the side of Gerald’s neck and marked him. “You’re my number one priority. Not Jethro.” He kept his mouth pressed to the mark until his lover spoke.

“I know . . . I know what I said about Gibbs . . . _Jethro_ . . . watching but . . .” Gerald again looked away.

Leaning back, he gazed at Gerald for a second before gently cupping his man’s face, taking additional time to smile his understanding and kiss the lips that kept turning down in a frown. “You and me, going at each other, you giving it all to me . . . well, you gotta know how much I love that, how special it is to me. But if you’re not kosher with Jethro watching, then okay. It won’t happen. Not until you say the word.”

His left hand was claimed and moved so that a kiss could anoint its palm.

“I don’t know what changed but every time I think about Jethro watching us . . .” Gerald released his hand before staring up at him. “I guess what I’m saying is . . . I’m really not ready to invite him into that part of our lives. It scares me, Tony.”

Gerald closed his eyes briefly and when he re-opened them, the glint of moisture could be seen. “I realize this was all my idea but . . .”

Again Tony halted Gerald’s reply, but this time, instead of fingers, he used his mouth and by the time he was finished they were both straining against each other and struggling for air. He took a moment to free their erections and gripped them in one hand, brushing his thumb over the weeping heads while rhythmically squeezing the hardening shafts.

“I’ll say this as often as you need to hear it . . . the minute . . . and I’m serious, the **minute** you decide this thing with Jethro is messing with you and me and our love, it’s over, G-man. Pure and simple . . .  finished, finito, fini.”

“Tony . . .”

“I don’t want you looking at me with Jethro and thinking I’m into him more than I’m into you ‘cause it ain’t so. Not now, not ever.”

He twisted his grip and smiled at the breathless moan that welcomed the move. “I love Jethro. You know that, but babe, and please write this down, carry it in your wallet, hell, tattoo it on your body. You, Gerald Jackson, you’re my world. Morning, noon and night. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three hundred and sixty five days a year.”

He captured Gerald’s mouth in a kiss that swallowed both their cries of surrender. As soon as he could breathe again, he touched their foreheads together. “Don’t be afraid, G-man. You and me, we’re solid.”

Yanking free the t-shirt he’d stuck in his back pocket earlier, he quickly took care of the mess they’d made and, after sharing a last kiss, rose to his feet and then assisted Gerald to his. The instant they and their clothes were put to right, he hauled Gerald in for a rib-crushing hug.

“Personally, if it was me, I’d be more afraid of Higgins. I can hear him squalling from here and we haven’t even made it out of the driveway.”

Gerald returned his hug with a bonus kiss thrown in at the end. “Maybe **he** should be the one riding shotgun with Jethro instead of you.”

Evil smiles were shared as the door closed behind them.

 

-end-

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though this is mostly Gerald's story, you will find chapters such as this that are written from Tony or Jethro's POV. I'm working on one for Ducky at the moment and that is why the chapter count has gone up. This series is essentially written but the muse keeps slapping me on the head with new ideas which may delay the posting of the final chapters. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? ;-)
> 
> And yeah, I know the chapters are short. That's the way the muse roll!
> 
> Movie quote is from the Paul Newman 1967 classic, 'Cool Hand Luke."


	4. Sharing Concerns Regarding the New Equation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day three of their trip and Jethro is having serious issue with Gerald’s behavior. He shares his concerns with Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major thanks for all the kudos and comments. You guys rock my world!

 

 

Jethro stood on the balcony of their hotel room and watched the dark gray Chevy Impala drive out of the parking lot. Gerald had noticed a Chinese restaurant on their way in and had volunteered to go and grab the three of them some supper. He hadn’t even stopped to examine their room once they had checked in; just shoved his overnight bag at Tony, grabbed a keycard and hightailed it back down to his car.

 _If you ask me_ , Jethro thought, _it’s not hunger that’s got him running out of here._

He briefly shook his head in frustration. _Pretty sure it’s me or me and Tony and how open we’ve been with each other. That’s what’s got him on the run._

It was day three of their sojourn across the country, and Gerald had managed to avoid riding with him in the U-Haul the entire three days.

He looked down at the scratches on his hands. After the fiasco of Higgins riding shotgun, Gerald had decided the cat would travel with him in his car. He touched the scratch on his left cheek – he had considered suggesting Gerald **and** Higgins ride with him in the van but it only took one angry hiss to negate that idea.

Speaking aloud, he declared, “I’m worried about him.” He followed the sight of Gerald’s car until it disappeared from view.

Arms slid around his chest and embraced him in such a way that left no doubt as to the feelings of the person hugging him.

“Tony.”

The arms holding him loosened and dropped lower, allowing curious hands to map territory that was enjoying the process despite the exposed balcony they were standing on.

“Higgins? Or Gerald?”

Jethro stopped the hand intent on relieving him of his belt. “There’s several families down at the pool. Pretty sure they’re not ready for your version of _Show and Tell_.”

His eager flesh was comforted for several seconds before the hands withdrew their presence. He was mourning their loss when Tony stepped into view beside him.

“If you’re worried about Higgins, don’t be. He’ll warm up to you eventually.” With a crooked smile Tony readjusted his jeans before smoothing down his mussed hair. “Higgins is establishing his superiority at the moment. You know, ‘I’m the Alpha male’ sorta thing. The minute you realize he’s boss and you’re not, he’ll be all over you.” Tony indicated his white t-shirt and the cat hair clinging to it. “ **All** over you.”

Jethro glanced over his shoulder, his gaze zeroing on the bed and the sleeping cat lying on it. Higgins was positioned on his back with his belly exposed and all four paws in the air, snoring. He shook his head. Who knew cats snored?

“Humph . . . cat hair. Can’t say I’m looking forward to that.”

Tony slapped him on the back. “You’ll get used to it. That and the hairballs.”

Jethro thought about that for a moment before replying. “I’ve been cleaning up your messes for several years now. What’s one more?”

The retaliatory kiss laid upon him was indeed messy and much enjoyed and rated several wolf whistles from the five teenagers crowded together on the pool’s lone diving board.

Again, Tony readjusted clothing and hair before continuing their conversation. “If you worried about Gerald, well, join the club.”

Jethro remained silent, hoping for a further explanation. None came. Instead, Tony gripped the railing and gazed down at the pool and its occupants. Jethro looked closer. There was definitely a look of worry on Tony’s face which only increased his own level of concern.

He covered Tony’s hand with his own. “Why do I get the feeling Jackson is having second thoughts?”

Tony rounded on him immediately and poked him hard in the chest “ **There**! That’s part of the problem. For God’s sake, quit calling him Jackson. His fucking name is Gerald.” He spun back around and gripped the railing with such force his knuckles turned white. “Why the hell the two of you call each other by your last names is beyond me.”

Tony turned his head and glared at him. “Are you afraid if you call each other by your **first** names you might . . . oh, I don’t know . . . fall in love with each other?” Throwing his arms in the air, he forced a laugh. “Wouldn’t that be ridiculous? The three of us in love with each other! Absurd, I tell you. Absolutely absurd.”

Shocked speechless, Jethro stared at his companion. _Damn. Where is all this anger coming from?_

Ignoring all eye-witnesses, he pulled Tony into his arms and held him tight, rubbing his hands up and down the younger man’s back. “Tony, I honestly care for Gerald. But it feels like it’s a one way street. In fact . . .” He stopped to press a kiss to Tony’s forehead. “I get the distinct feeling he’s afraid of me.”

Fingers tangled in his hair and pulled him in for several more kisses, one of which anointed the scratch on his cheek. “Gerald **is** scared,” Tony admitted, his anger leaving as quickly as it had appeared. “Scared his idea of sharing me with you will come back and bite him in the butt.”

Jethro once again looked in the direction Gerald had driven. _Scared? Scared of what? Is he scared I’ll steal Tony from him? Why would he think that? Hell, I’m the one who’s scared. What if Gerald pulls the plug on this new equation? I want this so much; I want Tony and when the time is right, I want Gerald to join us. Neither one of them realize how much I crave having two men in my bed._

Before he could verbalize his thoughts, Tony pulled him back inside their room and began divesting them of their clothes. They’d been driving for nearly 12 hours and Tony had called first dibs on the shower the minute they’d walked through the door of their hotel room and seen the walk-in shower.

“I’ve talked myself blue,” Tony admitted after tossing his t-shirt on the king-size bed and chuckling when it floated down over the lower part of Higgins’ motionless form. Except for the flick of an ear, the sleeping cat didn’t move a muscle. “I’ve assured him he’s my number one priority a gazillion times. And I’m sorry if this hurts you, but Jethro, you gotta know that as much as I love you, Gerald will always come first. He owns my soul.”

Jethro felt his heart clench with pain. He knew he was number two and rightfully so but it still hurt to hear it said out loud. The echo of Cameron’s voice sounded in his head. _Suck it up, Roy. You fucked with Tony’s feelings and as a result, sent him running to Gerald. Learn from your mistakes and maybe, just maybe you’ll soon have what you desire._

For a brief moment, he allowed his heart to mourn the loss of former lover, David Cameron. The touch of Tony’s hands sliding his shirt off his chest pulled him back from his dark thoughts and he once again thanked Cameron’s spirit for reminding him what was important.

_Miss you, Cam._

He reached for Tony and if he was somewhat slower and gentler in the removal of the younger man’s clothes, he simply blamed it on the exhausting drive they had just completed.

Once the two of them were naked, Tony directed him toward the bathroom before continuing with his explanation, “You destroyed me, Jethro, and Gerald was there to pick up the pieces and put them back together.”

He opened his mouth to again explain and apologize for his asinine behavior but Tony stopped him with a negative shake of his head. “It’s water under the bridge, babe,” he assured him. “There’s no need to apologize. I pretty much understand why you did what you did.”

His lips, throat, shoulders and upper chest were branded with hot, moist kisses and went a long way in partially erasing the remorse he still wrestled with on a daily basis. “Tony, if I could change . . .” His regret choked him and he fell silent. He would never understand why Tony had not only forgiven him but had agreed to Gerald’s offer. For that alone he would reconsider his lack of faith in a benevolent spirit.

Tony pressed a brief kiss to his forehead. “Hush. I’m just explaining why I feel the way I do about Gerald. To put it bluntly, he was my savior.”

His pectorals were cupped and squeezed, followed by pinching, tugging and biting. The pain was exquisite and Jethro vocalized his appreciation with a moan that was part gratitude and part petition for more. Tony happily continued with his torturous ministrations.

“Damn it, Tony. I’m dying here.”

“No dying until we finish jerking each other off. Until then . . .”

A bottle of Nooky Lube was placed in his hand before he was pushed under a waterfall of heat and subjected to a half hour of reciprocal satisfaction that left his dick depleted and his heart refreshed.

“Can’t believe how nice this room is. You sure you’re not robbing your retirement fund paying for all this?”

Jethro finished rinsing the soap from his hair before answering. “I’ve got it covered. Don’t worry.” The minute the decision had been made for Tony and Gerald to move back to D.C., Jethro had begun planning the trip -- deciding the route, the amount of mileage to be driven each day, arranging all accommodations. He had gone somewhat overboard in choosing their hotels but he wanted to take advantage of the time he would be spending with both Tony and Gerald, wanted to make up for time lost last year. And if that meant dipping into his savings so that he could spoil both men, well, so be it. It would be a long time before they could freely act on their feelings for each other without being condemned by friends and co-workers.

Wearing only a towel around his waist, he was exiting the bathroom and heading toward the room Tony had chosen as theirs when Gerald stepped into the suite carrying multiple bags of take-out. He saw the look of distress followed quickly by one of hopeless acceptance on Gerald’s face. Tony was busy digging through his suitcase and missed everything.

_Better now than never._

Moving quickly, he relieved Gerald of all the bags and dumped them on the table in the eating area of their suite. Before the man could walk away, he hauled him in for a one-arm hug and a whispered ‘thanks’ in his ear.

The stunned, confused reply of “Uh, you’re welcome?” warmed his left temple and he increased the strength of their embrace before sneaking a swift nuzzle of the area behind Gerald’s ear.

“Come on. Tony’s got something to show you.”

He kept a hand on Gerald’s shoulder when the man pulled free and used it to guide him toward Tony. He made sure he remained a part of the equation once Gerald was in Tony’s arms and being treated to an abundance of enthusiastic ‘welcome back’ kisses. He stood directly behind Gerald and repeatedly rubbed his hands along the man’s shoulders and down his arms, hoping it was just enough to tempt him with a glimpse of their possible future.

Looking up he caught the expression of gratitude in Tony’s eyes. He reached out a hand and briefly gripped his lover’s hip before stepping away and allowing them their moment together.

“G-man, that shower is heaven on earth,” Tony exclaimed once he finished devouring Gerald’s mouth. “Not only does it have one of those waterfall showerheads, which, if I may say so is AWESOME! and is definitely something we need to buy, but there are these jets in the wall and if you position yourself just right, the water hits you in the . . .”

Leaving Tony to expound on the wonders of the soon-to-be-used-again shower, Jethro searched for his suitcase. His stomach announced its need for food the second he found the case in the closet. Ridding himself of his towel, he dug out the sweats he normally wore to bed and slipped them on as he walked bare-footed toward the kitchen area.

“Guys?”

Gerald and Tony joined him at the table. He gripped the back of their necks and forced them to acknowledge the cat that was currently eyeing them with complete and utter disdain while sitting amidst the bags of food.

“I’m prepared to share a lot of things with you guys. My home, my boat, my special blend of coffee.” He gently tugged on Gerald, making sure they were looking at each other before grinning. The return smile was so brief in appearance he would have missed it if he had not been looking straight at the man.

It was a start.

He looked back at the cat who was now sniffing the individual bags. “But I draw the line at sharing any and all eating surfaces with our resident Alpha feline. Are we agreed on this?”

After a moment of silent communication, Tony and Gerald simultaneously slipped free of his grasp and moved to stand behind him.

“Ah, yeah,” Tony piped up. “We agree. It’s just . . .”

Without even turning around, Jethro knew Tony was looking to Gerald for assistance. He rolled his eyes. “Fellas! He’s just a cat.”

“Well . . .”

Jethro shivered slightly when Gerald gripped the rear waistband of his sweats, the man’s fingers brushing against the sensitive area at the small of his back. His trembling increased when Gerald pressed against him and whispered in his ear.

“To quote Tony’s Rule #3, never underestimate your opponent.”

Higgins threw down the gauntlet with a sharp flick of his tail.

Cats rule, humans drool, you dumbass. This food is mine.

 

 -end-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Restoring the New Equation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month has passed since their move back home, and Gerald is still confused as ever about his feelings and his place within this new relationship with Jethro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline references Season 2, Episode 20, 'Red Cell.'

 

 

“Thanks for checking in, Kate. I’ll tell them you called as soon as they wake up.”

Tucking the phone beneath his ear, Gerald opened the freezer door and tossed two bags of defrosted peas back inside. “I’m pretty sure Jethro will be back at work on Monday. Tony?” He checked to see if the bags of peas he’d returned to the freezer earlier in the day had refrozen. Satisfied they were ready to go if needed, he moved to the fridge below and collected a bottle of water for himself. He took a sip before answering Kate’s query, “Pretty sure he’s gonna play the abused and wounded card for as long as possible.”

Both Tony and Jethro were recovering from injuries incurred during their last case. He rolled his eyes and chuckled. Well, at least Jethro’s were legit. He had taken down a murderer in a fight that was obviously brutal if one took into account the swollen knuckles, the bruised ribs and the multiple facial cuts and contusions.

Tony, on the other hand, was the victim of a hands-on demonstration courtesy of the battered Gunnery Sergeant lying beside him in the master bedroom. The art of snapping a neck was not a skill his lover would ever use. Yet, considering the number of massages he’d received during the past 24 hours, Tony was not above exploiting the somewhat dubious injury Jethro had inflicted upon him.

Gerald was halfway finished with his water when a spurt of laughter nearly caused him to choke. “Yeah, you’re right. Tony is, without a doubt, a drama queen of diva proportions.”

He finished his water and threw the empty container in the recycle bin under the sink. “Okay, talk to you later.”

Ending his call with Kate, he wondered how long it would be before the team’s astute profiler connected the dots and realized what exactly was going on between the three of them. He knew Kate had witnessed Jethro and Tony’s shocking moment of passion following Tony’s kidnapping ordeal last year. She had not only witnessed it but had gone as far as to call him and report it. He still, to this day, wasn’t sure why Kate had snitched on the two men, but it was water under the bridge and he had enough on his plate without speculating on her motives.

At the moment, the only people who truly knew of their arrangement were his twin sister, Genevieve and Ducky. The rest of his family and the team, knew about him and Tony and **only** him and Tony. They did not know the true reason for their leaving the area one year ago nor the reason for their return. The only thing they did know was that Tony had requested a transfer back home and the two of them would be living with Jethro until permanent accommodations could be arranged. His mother, even though she was overjoyed at her _sons_ return, was currently not speaking to him because they had turned down the offer of his old bedroom as a place to stay.

Frowning, he opened a drawer in search of a towel to dry the countertop. “Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.”

The three of them had decided to keep their relationship off the books because of the military’s ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ policy. And even though not one of them was actively serving their country, Jethro was a retired Marine and both he and Tony worked for a government agency dedicated to solving crimes against members of the military. So, yes, the less they disturbed the status quo, the better.

Of course, that meant they would eventually have to find a place to live, and he knew Tony and Jethro weren’t looking forward to that in any form or fashion. The two of them had thoroughly enjoyed the freedom of publically expressing their love for one another on the week-long trip from San Diego. Also, it went without saying that Tony was incredibly unhappy pretending he and Jethro weren’t lovers, but even without the policy of ‘Don’t Ask, Don’ Tell’ there was still Jethro's strict code of conduct to take into account. Yes, he had thrown Rule Number 12 out the window the second he and Tony had entered into a relationship but that didn’t negate his feelings regarding appropriate work behavior. Tony did his best but there were days when he was nearly vibrating out of his skin with the need to launch himself at Jethro the second the older man arrived home.

He eyed the unfamiliar kitchen before yanking open another drawer with a little bit more force than necessary. “Where are those damn towels?” Slamming the drawer shut with his hip, he left the kitchen but hesitated crossing into the living room.

It had only been a month since they’d moved in with Jethro, and he was still having trouble remembering where things were. Tony, on the other hand, had had no trouble making himself at home. His Maxim magazines vied for space on the cluttered coffee table while his collection of Gary Cooper dvds were tucked next to a dust-covered stack of books on the fireplace mantle. The backpack he used for work hung on a wall-hook by the door and his running shoes were mixed in with Jethro’s work boots.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he re-examined the area for any evidence of _his_ existence. Between Jethro and Tony’s junk, he had yet to leave a mark on their temporary home or on the relationship, he, himself, had instituted.

“And whose fault is that?” He blew out an exaggerated breath. “I belong here. I belong here. I belong here. Tony wants me here. Jethro wants me here.”

Finally his gaze landed on the Dan Brown book he was currently reading. It was still lying on the couch with . . . he looked more closely . . . were those Jethro’s glasses resting on top of it?

“Damn.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. To be honest, Jethro was confusing the hell out of him. There had been no hint of the older man’s typical callous behavior since they’d left San Diego. Of course, he wasn’t so naïve as to believe it wouldn’t make an appearance sooner than later. The ‘B’ stood for bastard, and Jethro was the first to admit it. 

A noise from down the hallway put an end to his scrutiny of both the living room and his feelings regarding Jethro. He quickly returned to the master bedroom and discovered the noise had come from the very man in question, and the cause for the pain-filled sound was, no other than Tony himself.

“Slick, you’re not only a drama queen but also an absolute menace to those you sleep with.”

He moved toward the bed and expertly eased Tony away from Jethro's injured side. His lover was a cuddler, to say the least and, in the bedroom, this trait manifested itself in the form of spooning. Big spoon, little spoon, it didn’t matter to Tony. He wanted to be as close as possible to the person sharing his bed. Unfortunately, Jethro's bruised ribs did not appreciate any form of cuddling, regardless the person.

He watched his lover for several minutes and frowned when Tony instinctively searched for his fellow spoonee. He caught the arm that was intent on slinging itself across Jethro's chest and used it to, once again, turn Tony away from Jethro. Knowing without a doubt it was a lost cause, he hurried upstairs to the room he and Tony shared. He collected the items he needed and returned to the master bedroom.

He shook his head. In the few seconds he’d been gone, Tony had flopped back over on his left side and was nuzzling the area behind Jethro's right ear. His arm lay across Jethro's chest and from the frown on the older man’s face, it wouldn’t be long before another grumble of pain broke the silence.

Leaning down, he whispered in Tony’s ear, “Babe, I need you to hold me. It’s cold, and I need my big, bad Cuddle Bear to keep me warm.”

Before he could blink, Tony was turning in his direction and reaching for him with both hands. “G-man?” his lover sleepily mumbled.

He slipped a king-size body pillow into Tony’s arms and grinned when his lover hugged it to his chest and buried his face in its softness. He took the second pillow and tucked it between the two men, hoping against hope that Tony would cuddle with it the next time he turned over.

“That’s it. Hold me tight. Keep me warm,” he whispered to his softly snoring lover.

The pillows were actually his, given to him by Tony. ‘You need something to cuddle with when work keeps me from coming home at night,’ his lover had informed him.

He laid his hand on top of the fingers clutching the upper portion of the pillow. It hadn’t been until he and Tony had moved into together that he’d changed from sleeping on his back to sleeping on his side. His Cuddle Bear did not like being denied his share of spooning, and it quickly became the position of choice no matter where they slept – bed, couch or beach.

He watched Tony for several minutes, spending the time threading his fingers through the soft strands of hair clinging to his forehead. He used his index finger to lightly brush eyebrows, eyelashes, lips and nose.

“You have no idea how much I love you, Anthony DiNozzo,” he whispered.

“You and me both.”

Blue eyes clouded with pain tracked him as he walked around to the opposite side of the bed. He took a seat next to Jethro and checked his forehead for a fever. He then inspected the man’s eyes, checking the pupils of each before lightly grazing the bruises on Jethro’s cheeks with his fingertips. He ended with a gentle brush of his thumb across Jethro's busted lip.

“It sounds like it’s time for a pain pill.”

“I can handle it.”

He lifted Jethro's right hand and examined the swollen and abused knuckles, noting another round of ice packs wouldn’t go amiss. “I know you can handle it, Marine. Doesn’t mean you have to.” He stared at Jethro until the man caved with an abrupt nod of the head.

“Stubborn to the max. Remind you of anyone?”

He left the room and collected the bottle of Percocet he’d held onto since his final visit to his orthopedic specialist six months ago. Grabbing a glass of water from the bathroom, he offered both the glass and pill to Jethro. He made no attempt to hide his sarcastic roll of the eyes when Jethro ignored the glass of water and dry swallowed the Percocet.

“Tough guy, huh?”

“Humph.”

Jethro closed his eyes and spent the next few minutes taking controlled shallow breaths. It came as no surprise when the lines of pain remained etched on the man’s face even after he’d dozed off.

Transfixed, he sat beside Jethro for almost a half hour and was startled into nearly falling off the bed when Higgins jumped into his lap. From his post, the cat examined the two sleeping men for several minutes before setting a foot on the bed. He stretched first his front legs, then his back legs and with a decisive flick of his tail decided the perfect spot to rest his royal behind, was the edge of Jethro's pillow. With one last smirk of superiority he tucked his face against Jethro's neck and commenced purring the second Jethro turned his head and nuzzled his belly.

“Et tu, Brutus?”

His query was ignored, and he was left watching the members of his new family sleep.

“Am I the only hold out?” he asked himself.

And truthfully, was he a hold out? For the past four weeks he’d clocked more time with Jethro then during the year he’d actually worked with him at NCIS headquarters. The man was now going out of his way to include him in just about everything they did, whether it be cooking supper, choosing a movie to watch before bed or something as simple as doing laundry.

Every morning he was greeted with an affectionate touch of some sort, whether it be a clasp of a shoulder, a hand gripping the back of his neck or a simple stroke of his arm. At the end of each day, no matter the sleeping arrangements, Jethro always hugged him good-night.

And then there were the little things . . . Jethro spending time with him at the kitchen table while he studied. Jethro eating breakfast with him on the mornings Tony slept in, which was every day of the week that ended in a ‘Y.’ Jethro making sure they never ran out of the special organic bread he used for his sandwiches. Jethro offering his home as a place to meet for his study group.

There was a new couch in the living room because the old one wouldn’t comfortably accommodate all three of them. There was a new grill in the backyard along with a cypress swing Jethro had just finished constructing after having worked on it day and night for the past two weeks.

And don’t even get him started on all the things Jethro had done for Higgins – the numerous cat beds scattered throughout the house, the toys, the scratching posts, the two cat trees that had magically appeared one week after they moved in.

Gerald scrubbed his face with his hands before letting out a sigh of frustration. “You’re confusing the hell out of me, Jethro Gibbs, and I don’t like it one bit.” He gently touched a finger to the injured hand resting on top of Jethro's chest. “My heart belongs to Tony but you, you’re stirring up feelings inside me and I . . . I’m not sure what to do about them. I never, in a million years, thought I would be in this position and I just don’t know what to do.”

Getting to his feet, he balanced one hand on the mattress next to Jethro's hip before leaning over him to lay a kiss on Tony’s bare shoulder. He then took a few seconds to scratch behind Higgins’ ears before straightening. He was in the act of turning away when his hand was caught in a grip that had no intention of letting go.

“Don’t,” was sleepily mumbled. “The equation. You . . . no, not tonight.”

Gerald stared at the hand clinging to his. He shifted his gaze to Jethro's face and found the man asleep once more.

“Okay, got it. Don’t remove myself from the equation.”

He eased out the body pillow he’d placed between Tony and Jethro and cautiously took its place. Lying down, he couldn’t help but chuckle when Tony immediately abandoned his faux sleeping partner and turned in his direction, pinning him to the mattress with an arm and a leg. Drool was soon saturating the shoulder of his t-shirt, and he was about to slip into the arms of Morpheus when a hand landed on his left thigh and gently squeezed.

_Oh shit!_

He snapped his eyes open and tried to control his erratic heartbeat. _It’s nothing_ , he told himself. _Just a show of support, right? Gratitude?_

_What if it’s something else?_

He was still wrestling with his thoughts when a nearly inaudible phrase disturbed the silence.

“Rule number 15.”

He turned to stare at Jethro. “Huh?” He knew a few of the infamous Gibbs’ rules from the stories Tony had told him but he couldn’t place this one.

His confusion was solved when Tony shifted to whisper in his ear.

“Always work as a team.”

A soft kiss was offered to his cheek at the same time the hand on his thigh squeezed again. Those gestures were quickly followed by a fuzzy tail slapping his face repeatedly.

Brushing away Higgins’ tail, he turned on his side, becoming the little spoon while lightly touching the hand that had shifted to his hip.

“Got it. Got it. We’re a team.”

It was several minutes before the silence was broken by a sleep-laden murmur.

“Smart man.”

 

-end-

 


	6. Setting the New Equation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tired of being the odd man out, Gerald makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline references Season 2, Episode 21, 'Hometown Hero.'

 

Gerald grumbled unhappily when the blaring sound of Darth Vader woke him from his dream of Tony pounding the hell out of his ass while they enjoyed a steaming hot shower together.

“Seriously? You couldn’t have waited until we finished?”

He stabbed at the off button then spent the next 30 seconds glaring at the figure of Darth Vader that sat atop the section that housed the clock mechanism. It took another full 30 seconds of total confusion before he realized the significance of being serenaded awake by one of the most recognizable sounds in cinema history.

Tony had not come home last night.

Turning, he reached out a hand and encountered the ice-cold sheets on the other side of the bed.

“Damn.”

Turning back over, he hugged to his chest the body pillow he’d obviously been clutching all night long and struggled to deal with the feeling of loneliness that threatened to pull him down into another depression.

For the past week both Tony and Jethro had been working a case that had kept them at NCIS headquarters all hours of the day and night. And on those few evenings when, by some miracle, they had made it home, the two men had ended up falling sound asleep on the couch,.

It had been one hell of a long week for all of them, and he wasn’t handling being the odd man out.

“Damn.”

He again glared at the Star Wars figure. Up until this past week he had never awoken to the sound of the Darth Vader alarm clock and the reason for this was his missing lover.

It was routine for them to start each one of their days with some very enjoyable loving. Even when Tony spent the night with Jethro, he still managed to slip under their covers before sunrise and snuggle with him until time to get up. The alarm was always turned off because who in their right mind wanted Darth Vader’s distinctive breathing interrupting an enthusiastic round of mutual gratification.

The thought of Tony swallowing him to the root had him shoving the covers aside and reaching for his dick. It was already stiffening in anticipation of dancing with its three best friends, Tony’s lips, tongue and fingers.

“Damn it, Slick, I miss you so fucking much.”

“Miss me no more, G-man.”

Tony stood in the doorway, stretching his arms over his head and yawning for all he was worth. His clothes looked like he’d slept in them and more than likely he had, catching cat naps at his desk when Jethro wasn’t looking.

Gerald licked his lips. Tony looked rumpled and sexy as hell. Exactly what the doctor ordered.

“Tony.”

He shoved down the threadbare scrub pants he had worn to bed and gripped his erection. “I’ve got exactly 15 minutes before I have to get up and start getting ready. You want some of this, you better get your ass over here.”

Tony lurched for the bed and dropped to his knees, groaning with unmistakable hunger. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of doing this over the past five days. God, I love blowing you, G-man. It ranks right up there with fucking that incredibly tight ass of yours.”

A saliva slick finger pushed its way inside his ass, causing him to levitate off the bed and bringing his dick in line with the hottest mouth in the nation. “Slick! Jesus Christ! That’s . . . fuck . . . perfection, Tony, perfection.”

With seven minutes to go, he pulled his very happy, albeit, depleted dick from Tony’s mouth. He spent the remaining time returning the favor and even threw in an extra five minutes because there was no way he was starting his day without sharing several toe-curling kisses with his lover.

Scooting back, he straddled Tony’s knees and took a moment to enjoy the sight of his debauched lover. “You handsome devil.”

“Better make that exhausted devil.” Tony yawned again and damn if Gerald couldn’t see all the way down to his lover’s toes, the yawn was so wide.

“Any chance you’ll be wrapping up this case sooner than later?” He offered his favorite plaything one last loving smooch before exiting the bed.

“Wrapped, the case is, my young padawan.” Tony flipped over on his side and reached for the discarded body pillow, securing the lower end with one leg while burying his face in its upper softness. “Jethro is on the phone with the Director as we speak.”

Reaching for his watch, Gerald knocked his hand against Darth Vader and was hit with a sudden idea once he registered the manner in which Tony had just spoken.

“Hey, Slick. Before you crash . . .” He waited until Tony cracked open one blood-shot eye. “I know we just went and saw _Revenge of the Sith_ but starting tomorrow, _The Uptown_ is showing all three movies and I thought you and I could---”

His back hit the wall the instant his mouth was taken hostage and totally devoured.

“Brilliant idea, G-man. It’s a date. Just you and me and . . .”

He stumbled slightly once Tony released his mouth from the kiss to end all kisses.

A smug grin immediately spread across Tony’s face as he continued to speak, “. . . and Obi Wan and Anakin and Padme’ and C-3PO.” Another breathless kiss was shared. “And Jar Jar Binks, can’t forget my bud, Jar Jar.”

“Idiot.” He shoved Tony back in the direction of the bed. “Go to sleep, babe. I’ll see you when I get home.” A second after he stepped into the adjoining bathroom, he poked his head back into the bedroom. “You will be here when I get home, right? You’re not going into work, are you?”

“Twenty---” A yawn caught Tony in mid-sentence. “Twenty fours off. Back to work tomorrow.”

Tony was snoring by the time he left the bedroom and headed for the kitchen. He was caught by surprise when he found Jethro standing next to the fridge. The man was on the phone, and from what he could hear as he filled his cup with the freshly made brew, Jethro was speaking with Director Morrow.

_Why did I think he was still at the office?_

Hands landed on his shoulders, treating them to a firm squeeze before moving to the nape of his neck and kneading the stiff muscles that had not relaxed even after being exposed to a lengthy hot shower.

“Missed you.”

He nearly dropped his full cup of coffee because he could have sworn more than just Jethro's hot breath had teased his ear. He glanced sideways at the older man but Jethro had returned his attention to the small notepad lying on the countertop.

Shaking his head, he figured he had imagined the feel of Jethro's lips. The hands on his shoulders and neck, yes, that was normal. The touching had begun when Jethro had come to San Diego to help them move and had continued once they’d moved in with him. The brush of lips on his ear, well, that was . . .

_Unexpected? Welcomed? Enjoyed??_

Again he shook his head but this time he couldn’t help the smile of confusion that took shape. He knew Jethro had definite feelings for him; he just wasn’t sure of his own. There was a definite attraction; damn, he’d have to be a cold corpse in Ducky’s morgue not to notice how attractive Jethro was -- those perceptive blue eyes, the silver hair, the rare smile that begged to be investigated.  

_But does attraction equal love?_

If he was honest with himself, he truly hated being the odd man out; and there had been more evenings then not where he would have given anything to be right in the middle of a Jethro/Tony cuddle.

_Would it really hurt to rewrite the equation?_

Returning his attention to matters at hand, his smile transformed into one of bemusement when he noticed Jethro, now finished with his call, had moved to the kitchen table and was sharing his newspaper with Higgins. The cat sat at Jethro's elbow and was staring at the open newspaper as if he was reading the articles.

He buried his chuckle in his mug of coffee.

_So much for the rule about felines and eating surfaces._

Grinning, he treated Jethro to the exact same massage he had recieved before inquiring what his _men_ wanted for breakfast.

 

+++++++

 

“I’m telling you I saw a kitchen sink in the debris that hit the destroyer.” Tony stuffed a forkful of syrup-soaked pancakes into his mouth and managed to groan with appreciation, chew and talk, all at the same time. “I’m not kidding. It was a kitchen sink.”

Another forkful made its way inside his mouth. This time he waited until he swallowed before saying, “And I’m pretty sure I caught a continuity mistake. A big one, in fact.”

Gerald felt his breath catch watching Tony lick all traces of syrup and pancake from his lips. He was absolutely vibrating in his seat with the overwhelming need to tackle his lover to the ground so that he could perform his own x-rated clean up job.

“Are you listening?”

It was 2am and the two of them were eating a very, very early breakfast at the International House of Pancakes. The trilogy of movies had finished shortly after midnight and instead of returning home, Tony had insisted on going out for a meal. For the past hour, they, as in Tony, had been discussing all six movies with great enthusiasm. He, on the other hand, was suffering with the worst case of blue balls known to mankind and if a certain someone didn’t quit sucking on his fork, he would not be held accountable for his actions.

Tearing his eyes away from the tongue that was now searching for an elusive crumb, he refocused his attention. “Yes, I’m listening. You discovered a mistake.”

Gerald watched Tony fork a strawberry and bite into it with relish. He growled at the sight, but before he could vault across the table and completely stun the few customers left inside the nearly deserted restaurant, Tony slapped him on the hand with his fork.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but did not Leia claim to know her mother in ‘Return of the Jedi?’ In fact, I specifically remember Luke quizzing her about her _real_ mother. How can Leia remember her _real_ mother if Padme’ died in this movie?”

Tony used air quotes both times he said the word _real_ and Gerald had to bite his tongue to keep from growling again. As far as he was concerned those fingers should be making their acquaintance with certain parts of his body.

“Pay the bill, Slick.”

Tony indicated his plate. “Where’s the fire, G-man? I’m nowhere near finished. In fact, I’m thinking of ordering another stack of . . . what the hell?!”

A feral grin welcomed the astonished look on Tony’s face. Gerald increased the pressure his foot was placing on Tony’s crotch. “Pay. The. Bill.”

He waited just long enough for Tony to sign the receipt before yanking him out of the booth by the collar of his leather jacket. The second they were in the parking lot and heading for his car, he reached for the snap on his own jeans.

“Where are we going? My car is over there.” Tony had come straight to the theater after leaving work. His Corvette was currently parked at the rear of the lot because his lover refused to place his beloved car in harm’s way.

“My car is right here and it’s bigger.” He fumbled one-handed for his keys and cursed when they fell to the ground. Releasing his hold on Tony’s jacket, he went down on one knee in order to search through the shadows for his keys.

“Bigger? What’s bigger got to do with . . . FUCK! G-man, people could see us!”

Gerald pressed his face against the bulge taking shape between Tony’s thighs. “Get in the fucking car and they won’t see a damn thing!” A glint of metal caught his attention and, with a sharp whistle of victory, he grabbed for his keys. Quickly gaining his feet, he unlocked the rear passenger door and turned to his waiting lover. When Tony didn’t move fast enough, he unceremoniously pushed him inside the back seat and climbed in after him. With the few brain cells still functioning in a somewhat logical manner, he scanned the darkened parking lot for any onlookers. Once secure in the fact their activities would go unobserved, he unzipped his jeans and hungrily demanded his lover get his butt in gear.

“Your dick. My ass. Now.”

Tony pulled him onto his lap. “May the Force be with us.”

It was.

 

+++++++

 

“I can’t believe it, G-man! My car is missing! **MISSING**! And to add insult to injury, I had to take the bus to work. Do you know what kind of people ride the bus?”

Tucking the cordless between his ear and shoulder, Gerald threw his toothbrush in the cup on the sink’s ledge before rinsing his mouth. He checked the small clock Tony had placed on the shelf housing his various colognes. 7:32am. He’d slept all of three hours before being awakened by Tony’s call.

Still not with the program, he frowned with confusion before asking, “You rode the bus?”

Both he and Tony had fallen asleep in his car after making out like randy teenagers. Jethro's call to arms was the only thing that had kept them from the sleeping the whole morning through parked at the International House of Pancakes.

“Why doesn’t anybody ever listen to me?”

Gerald rolled his eyes. He could literally hear the pout in Tony’s voice. “I’m listening, Slick.” He put the cordless on speaker and set it down on the counter. “I always listen.”

“Humph.”

Grinning at Tony’s juvenile response, Gerald quickly splashed his face with cold water. He needed his brain 100% online when talking to his disgruntled lover. Toweling dry his face, he asked, “Are you saying your car was stolen? Are you sure? Maybe it was towed?”

The four cups of coffee Tony had consumed with his breakfast had demanded a visit to the restroom before leaving for work. After a quick kiss, he had left his lover on the steps of the restaurant and driven home. Friday was his one day off from classes and he had planned to sleep for several hours before binge-watching the latest season of Doctor Who. Tony’s frantic call had put everything on hold.

“Why didn’t you call me the second you discovered your car was missing? I would have turned right around and picked you up.”

“I did call. Kept getting your voice mail.”

Tugging on the ties of his scrub pants, he walked into the bedroom and checked his cell. He grimaced when he saw his phone had shut down, no doubt because of a low battery.

“Sorry, babe. Cell’s dead.”

“Story of my life, G-man. Story of my life.”

 

+++++++

 

“My car was used in a convenience store robbery in Tennessee.”

Gerald slammed the lid on his laptop closed. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

It was now Saturday morning and he and Higgins were currently snuggled under a blanket on the couch watching movies on his laptop. Jethro had cancelled their weekend plans to visit the Smithsonian, and the reason, as usual, had something to do with their current case. He had considered visiting Genevieve but then remembered his sister was busy planning a baby shower for their second cousin, Earline, and no way in hell was he getting himself involved in that disaster.

“I **said** my car was used in a convenience store robbery. In Tennessee, off all places.”

Using his index finger, Gerald repeatedly drew a line up and down the middle of his forehead while muttering to himself, “Tony loves his car. Tony loves his car. Tony loves his car.”

The fiasco of the missing Corvette had been dumped in his lap once Tony realized he was about to bring the Mighty Wrath of Gibbs down upon his head. Therefore, instead of enjoying a marathon of his beloved show, Doctor Who, he had spent nearly 4 hours Friday playing phone tag with the police, the insurance company and the car rental agency.

Not to mention he had spent another night alone in bed. Tony and Jethro had made it home somewhere around 3am – his then sleep-addled brain had taken note of the time, Tony’s kiss and apology. Upon awakening, he had discovered the two men missing and upon further investigation, determined they had slept in Jethro's room and had returned to work without waking him. To say his patience was wearing thin was an understatement.

“Calm down, Slick. It’s just a car. Your life is not going to en---”

“Just a car?! Did you say . . . **Just. A. Car**?”

Gerald closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew what was coming.

“I’ll have you know my car is a classic. A classic 90 ZR1 Corvette. Powerful, fast, gorgeous, a very part of my being. I can't even begin to tell you how . . .”

Laying the cordless on the bed beside him, he grabbed his cell from the nightstand where it was charging and snapped off a quick text to Jethro.

[ would you PLEASE take a moment to hug tony]

[ he’s BEYOND upset regarding his car ]

He could hear Tony was still ranting when his cell blared out Kate’s ringtone.

[ First off, I apologize in advance. Jethro told me to text these words and only these words. ]

[ no ]

[ working a case ]

[ later ]

[ at home ]

[ with you ]

[ don’t call again ]

“Well, there’s the famous Bastard with a capital B, front row and center.”

He clicked off his cell and returned his attention to his lover, offering words of comfort and understanding. It took nearly 15 minutes before Tony was calm enough to end the call and return to work. He was shifting Higgins into a more comfortable position on his lap when Jethro's final text registered.

_With you._

With me?

Me?

As in Tony and me? Or . . .

As in you and me and Tony?

As in 1 + 1 + 1 = 3?

He was still reflecting on Jethro's words when another thought hit him.

Kate! Jethro had dictated his message to Kate.

Shit!

 

+++++++

 

The first thing his mind registered was the darkened room and the dim flickering of light from the fireplace. He squinted at the clock on the mantle and saw that it was 3:41am.

“Tony?”

Still foggy with sleep, it took his brain a few seconds to register his surroundings. He was sitting on the couch and had both his arms and legs wrapped around his snoring lover.

Tony had been utterly destroyed by the loss of his beloved car, and was literally inconsolable by the time Jethro got him home. After the umpteenth viewing of the video featuring the high speed car chase and the resulting destruction of the Corvette, Jethro had lost patience with Tony’s whining and sought refuge in the basement with his tools. He’d resurfaced for the take-out pizza they’d ordered in for supper and, after stealing a couple pieces, had disappeared back downstairs. His one saving grace was the chest-crushing hugs he’d offered both of them before leaving them alone.

Upset with Jethro's defection, Tony had then taken refuge in the older man’s bed after supper. Without thinking too hard on his decision to leave Tony to wallow all alone with his grief, Gerald had gravitated to the basement. After greeting him with a single nod of his head, Jethro had passed him the ever present bottle of bourbon and the extra coffee mug he kept for visitors. The two of them had shared a commiserating shot of Maker’s Mark before turning their attention to the king-size bedframe and headboard Jethro was constructing.

It wasn’t long before he had begun to fiddle with the ancient radio abandoned amongst the scattered tools and was surprised when music spilled out of its speakers. A somewhat annoyed grunt had greeted the smooth jazz station he’d found after a lengthy search but that was as far as it went. Jethro never made a move to turn off the radio nor requested a different genre of music. The two of them had spent the next few hours dancing around each other, Jethro invading his personal space on occasion, pointing out something specific on the headboard while massaging his shoulders and neck. He had, surprisingly, done his own invading, brushing frequently against Jethro's body when asked to hand over a specific tool or piece of wood.

Higgins had joined them at some point and was soon snoozing on the nearby work bench. Gerald had remained with Jethro until the sound of Tony calling his name brought him back upstairs. He didn’t exactly remember how they had ended up on the couch but here they were and as far as he was concerned, they could stay there until the sun came up. It had been way too long since he and Tony had spent quality cuddle time together and he wasn’t moving an inch until he absolutely had to. Of course, if Jethro wanted to continue sharing couch space with them, well that was just fine with---

Jethro!

His bewildered mind finally snapped to attention and registered the warm, moist lips traveling a path that led from his left ear to his shoulder.

His bare shoulder.

There was a warning rumble of displeasure when he moved to readjust the old _Lakers_ jersey he was wearing.

“Uh . . . Jethro?”

Sharp teeth lightly marked the now-healed joint at the same time a hand slowly slid across his upper chest and secured itself to the opposite shoulder.

“Shhhh,” was whispered in the ear that was still tingling from the kiss it had just received.

Gerald shivered helplessly because, well, because it was Jethro.

Jethro holding him tight against his chest.

Jethro painting his shoulder with a moist pattern of kisses.

Jethro sliding a hand under his jersey and resting it over his heart.

“What are you doing?”

Jethro marked his shoulder again, and this time the bite wasn’t as gentle as before but the pain wasn’t what registered with him, it was the swift response of his body and the rush of heat to his groin.

“Adding myself to the equation,” the man huskily answered. “Is that okay with you?”

Leaning his head forward and nudging the sweet spot below Tony’s jaw, Gerald took a moment to consider his answer. Was it time to truly embrace their unique relationship? Was it time to act on his newly recognized attraction to the man waiting patiently for his answer? When had Jethro slipped under the carefully constructed walls he kept his heart hidden behind? When had his love for Tony matured into a love that seriously considered the possibility of including Jethro?

“Gerald?”

The kisses to his shoulder had stopped, the work-roughened fingers stroking his chest had stilled. He shook his head in confusion when he realized how much the loss of their touch affected him.

Licking his suddenly dry lips, he leaned his head back and rested it on Jethro's shoulder. “You were always a part of the equation.” He let out a silent sigh when Jethro turned his head and buried nose and mouth in the tight curls above his left ear.

“Yeah, but that part didn’t include you,” Jethro countered.

“Maybe it’s time that it should?” He tried to control the tremble taking command of his body at the feel of Jethro's tongue tracing the outer shell of his ear.

“You asking or telling?”

Gerald wrestled his hand free of Tony’s sleep-lax grip and slipped it beneath his jersey. He interlaced his fingers with those of Jethro's and hummed with satisfaction when they took possession of his.

“Telling. Yeah, I’m telling.”

_Please God, am I’m making the right decision?_

Sharp teeth attacked the tendons in his neck, and his body again reacted with such intensity, he literally lost his breath.

“Smart man.”

 

-the end-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, what Tony said about the sink is true. According to IMDb -- In the opening sequence when the second Separatist ship is destroyed, a piece of debris flies into the Clone Star destroyer that shot it. That piece of debris is a kitchen sink. It was put in there by ILM personnel as a joke from someone saying, "We're throwing everything in the sequence but the kitchen sink."


	7. Checking on the New Equation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is pretty sure the status quo has changed. The problem is he doesn’t realize how heavy the change is weighing upon Gerald.

 

Tony collapsed face first into the pillows and groaned for all he was worth. He tried to lift his hand to swat at the beast still riding his sorry ass but the muscles in his arm refused to budge an inch. Everything was down for the count as in, ring the bell and declare Jethro the winner of this match.

“Shit! Shit!! **SHIT!!!** ”

“You say the sweetest things when you finish.”

Jethro's dead weight pinned his exhausted body to the mattress. “Fuck you, Tony,” was whispered in his ear.

“See? Sweet.”

His hands and arms were clumsily captured, then tucked against his body, and both he and Jethro grunted with regret when a certain body part, which **thankfully** was finally down for the count, slipped free of his body. Tony wiggled unhappily at the feel of semen leaking from his hole and hurried to remind his lover, “The towel, babe, get the towel.” It had been three days since the two of them had fucked, and he knew his ass would be overflowing with the evidence of his lover’s withheld passion.

Jethro levered up long enough to snatch a towel from the stack they kept on hand and stuff it between the cheeks of his ass. “Sorry,” Jethro mumbled once he resumed his position. The apology was accompanied by a weary kiss to his ear and Tony hummed his forgiveness.

A good ten minutes passed before either one of them found the strength to move. Tucking the towel more securely in place, Tony waited until Jethro rolled to his side and finished wiping himself clean before turning and spooning with his older lover. As with Gerald, it had taken time and a lot, a **LOT** of patience (all on his part, of course) before Jethro submitted to the DiNozzo mode of sleeping. They now slotted together like pros and the second he had Jethro securely in his arms, Tony nudged the area behind his ear and whispered, “It would be so much nicer if Gerald was here to bring up the rear.”

An exasperated noise answered him and Tony grinned. He didn’t have to see Jethro's face to know the man was rolling his eyes and frowning.

“I know. I know. Give it time. Give _Gerald_ time.”

To his way of thinking Jethro was moving at the speed of a snail in his pursuit of Gerald, and it was beyond time to add a shot of NOS to the mix. He wanted both his men in bed with him every night and the sooner the problem was resolved, the better.

He slid a hand down Jethro's abdomen and cupped the man’s lax genitals. “It sure would be nice having another willing participant for this beast to ride. Give my ass some downtime.”

“Tony?”

Jethro's exasperation turned quickly to concern and Tony rushed to assure his lover. “Just kidding, babe. Just kidding. My ass loves every second it spends with your mighty dick.”

Jethro's hand joined his and quickly tangled their fingers together.

“I guess what I’m saying is that I love what we have but it would be 100% better if Gerald was here with us.”

“I agree.”  


Jethro's voice reflected his exhaustion and Tony realized he only had a few more minutes before his man slipped into his usual post-fuckfest coma. Time to lay it on the line.

“Maybe you could spend more time with him?” he quickly suggested. “More cuddle time at night? More bonding time in the basement?” He rubbed his suddenly itchy nose on the back of Jethro's neck. “The hugging, the touching? That’s good. He likes that. Even the biting. He **really** likes that. But maybe more, I don’t know, more one on one time with him? And maybe even spend some serious time making out, like on the couch, where I can watch.”

He caught the hand reaching for the back of his head. “Aw, come on now. I know you want the same thing. You told me about that dream you’ve been having, the one where you watch me and Gerald sixty-nine each other.”

Of course, he’d been imagining them forming a circle of three while blowing each other and, fuck if that hadn’t inspired some wet dreams of his own.

He returned their clasped hands to Jethro's groin. “You rode my ass like a wild man after that confession. Don’t you deny it.”

A begrudging grunt was his only answer.

“Putting all the sex aside and yes, those words came out of my mouth.” Tony pulled Jethro tighter against him. “I really want Gerald here with us. In this bed. In our arms. I love both of you so much, it makes my heart ache not to have him here.”

And that was the crux of the matter. He hated the nights he left Gerald alone in their bed, and vice versa with Jethro. He wasn’t sleeping well because of it and had no doubt his astute lovers would soon notice the bags under his eyes and his lack of energy.

“Leaving Gerald to sleep with you . . .” The words that would explain his feelings escaped him and he was caught by surprise when Jethro turned and captured his mouth in a kiss that almost, _almost_ alleviated his unhappiness.

“I want the same thing you want, Tony, but not until Gerald’s ready. If we force him into this, we’ll probably end up destroying everything we have, not to mention lose Gerald in the process. I won’t allow that to happen. You **and** **him** are too important to me. It’s not worth the risk.”

“I hear ya.” Tony shared several more kisses with Jethro before coaxing the man back over on his side. An idea took shape the instant Jethro was properly situated in his arms. “I don’t know if you know this but next Thursday morning I’m driving Gerald to school. It’s time for his car’s yearly maintenance check-up, and he’s going to drop it off at the dealership that morning. You could be his ride home instead of me. Perfect opportunity for some quality one on one time.”

He poked Jethro in the nose. “You listening?” He poked him again. “Perrrrfect opportunity.”

“Yeah, yeah. You poke me one more time and somebody’s gonna be missing a finger.”

Tony buried his face in Jethro's neck and grinned.

“God, I love you.”

“Back at ya.”

 

+++++++

 

“Have you lost your mind?!”

Tony startled so bad he fell on his ass and was rewarded with a sharp nip of his fingers. He wisely handed over the morsel of raw meat to Higgins before glancing over his shoulder and grinning at his approaching lover. “The verdict is still out on that, G-man.”

Gerald pointed at the unwrapped steak sitting on the kitchen counter. “That’s Jethro's **last** **steak**!” The sound of horror in his voice suggested the world would end catastrophically if any harm came to the slab of meat.

Tony took a moment to scratch Higgins behind his ears and under his chin before placing on the floor the small dessert plate he’d filled with tidbits of meat. “I only cut off a tiny sliver for the Master here.” He grinned at the feline smirk that acknowledged the truth of his statement. “Jethro won’t miss it.”

Gerald started muttering to himself while re-wrapping the steak and placing it back in the fridge. Tony gave Higgins a final pat on the head before getting to his feet. He pulled Gerald into a hug and silenced him with a kiss that was certainly in the Top Ten Kisses of All Time.

“Jethro and Higgins are pals, babe. What’s his is Higgins or better yet, what’s _ours_ is Higgins.”

He nuzzled one of the hickeys he had given Gerald earlier in that morning and grinned with satisfaction when Gerald groaned in response. The fast and furious fucking they’d enjoyed in the shower had been wild and he’d marked Gerald not once but twice. Blatant marks that a blind man could see, which explained the obvious smirk on Jethro's face when the two of them had finally made it downstairs. In fact, if he remembered right, Jethro had done some of his own marking the second he’d wrapped Gerald in one of his patented ‘Good Morning’ hugs.

Speaking of Jethro . . .

“It **is** an _ours_ relationship now, right?” He tugged on the shoulder of Gerald’s shirt and exposed Jethro's mark to the light. “I mean, correct me if I’m wrong but you’ve been getting it on with him this past week. Right?” He eyed the kitchen counter behind Gerald and decided its sturdy surface would not only hold his lover’s weight but would also withstand the activity about to be unleashed upon it. “I think I might be jealous.”

His mind went on hold for a second. Was he truly jealous? He mentally shook his head. No, no way in hell. He was eager, damn eager for their duos to become a true threesome.

He started maneuvering Gerald into place but was distracted by his foot hitting the plate he’d placed on the floor for Higgins. “Hold that thought.”

The now empty plate was collected and placed in the sink along with the small cup that had contained Higgins’ morning helping of milk-coffee. Seemed he and Jethro had bonded over the stuff and the cat now expected a diluted dose of Jethro's rocket fuel every morning.

“Can’t believe Higgins likes coffee. Do you think it’s an Alpha thing? Drink coffee, hear me roar? Gerald?”

The kitchen was empty, along with the dining room, living room and front porch. He checked the master bedroom but that search also came up empty. He was heading for the backyard when he caught sight of the door leading to the basement. It was ajar and with a crooked smile spreading across his face, he quickly did a U-turn.

“Returning to the scene of the crime, eh, G-man?”

Jethro had told him all about the night he and Gerald had spent working on the bed’s new headboard. Upon hearing the tale, he’d been momentarily upset at being left out and had verbalized his discontent but then Jethro had bluntly reminded him of the date of the encounter and he’d shut up.

 _The Corvette Debacle_ . . . as Gerald had labeled the now infamous day.

He took a moment to mourn the loss of his beloved car before reaching for the door and rushing down the stairs. “Do I need to cover my eyes? Say yes, pleeeease say yes. Of course, you know I’ll be peeking. So gonna peek.” He skipped the last two steps and hit the floor with enough force to remind him his knees no longer belonged to a healthy 20 year old quarterback.

“Ow!”

“If you’ve finished making enough racket to raise the dead . . .” Jethro slapped the sandpaper he’d been using down on the ledge behind him and glowered at his visitor.

Tony checked Jethro's crotch and smirked. “We’ll work on that tonight, babe.” He searched the room for Gerald and frowned when he didn’t find his lover lurking in the shadows. “Unless you have other plans.”

Jethro had taken his suggestions to heart and last night Tony had heard familiar noises coming from the living room. He’d been so tempted to go downstairs and watch but he’d restrained himself and spent the time choosing his wardrobe for the next week.  

“No plans.” Jethro crossed the room and laid a kiss on him that definitely messed with his thought processes. “You were saying?” This time the smirk was firmly planted on Jethro's face.

“Uh . . . I’m looking . . .”

“I can see what you’re looking at and it ain’t happening. I’ve got to finish this section and I won’t get that done with you distracting me.”

Tony ripped his eyes away from his lover’s lower torso and the threadbare jeans he was wearing. He had the decency to blush because the images taking shape in his mind were so not family-friendly. Clearing the lust from his throat, he explained, “Actually, I’m looking for Gerald.”

“Not here.”

Tony rolled his eyes and huffed. “I can **see** that. Have any idea where he’s gone?”

Jethro examined the pile of scrap wood stacked against the wall directly beneath the stairs. “Haven’t seen him since he brought me lunch. Thought he was upstairs with you.”

Jethro held up a hand. “And before you ask, yes, we _got it on_.”

Tony was going to clap his hands but quickly put that on hold when he caught site of the disapproving look on Jethro's face. On the way home from work, Jethro had again confessed he wasn’t happy rushing things with Gerald and had taken him to task for pushing the two of them together every time they got within distance of each other. Basically he was told to back off or else. Of course the threat had come with a toe-curling kiss which led him to believe he could continue to meddle in their affairs.

“That’s great. Keep it up, babe.”

“Always.” Jethro pressed against him on the way to the pile of wood and Tony sucked in a surprised breath when he felt what was exactly **up** with his lover.

“Bastard.”

“So I’m told.” Jethro reached for the topmost piece of wood and held it up to his eye in order to check it for warping. “Weren’t the two of you going to re-watch that movie you just bought? The one with the space cowboy and his crew of misfits.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? Mal is **not** a cowboy.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Tony slipped in a quick kiss to the cheek before heading toward the stairs. “You like Mal and his crew of misfits. Don’t deny it. You’ve watched every episode of _Firefly_ not once but twice.” He grinned when he saw the small smile that briefly appeared on Jethro's face. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve got the hots for Zoe. Not to mention Mal’s wife, Saffron. Should have known you’d fall for her, the red hair and all.”

The patented Gibbs’ Glare followed him up the stairs and he was still chuckling when the basement door closed behind him. His laughter died a quick death when his continued search of the first floor remained unsuccessful.

Looking up at the ceiling, he yelled, “If you’ve started watching _Serenity_ without me, I’m so gonna paddle that fine ass of yours.” He bounded up the stairs that led to the second floor and hurried to the room he shared with Gerald.

Silence greeted him the second he stepped foot into the room. The television they’d bought while in San Diego was cold to touch and from the looks of their bed, no one had disturbed it since they had vacated it earlier that morning. He was about to check their adjoining bathroom when a noise caught his attention.

He turned back toward the room’s single window and, upon discovering it open, glanced down at the back yard.

“Shit.”

Gerald was sitting on the over-sized swing Jethro had built for them and from the way he was sitting -- hunkered over, arms braced on his knees, head in his hands – it didn’t take a doctor of psychology to figure out something was seriously bothering him.

Tony flew down the stairs, pausing only long enough to scoop up their current feline counselor. If anyone could pull Gerald out of his current funk, it would be Higgins.

“Babe?”

Sitting Higgins on the swing, he smiled when the cat managed to force Gerald to sit back and allow him to take his rightful place in his lap. The second Higgins was situated, Tony knelt on the ground in front of his lover. He circled Gerald’s thighs and hips with his arms, and the breath he didn’t realize he was holding whooshed out when Gerald bent forward and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“What’s wrong, G-man?”

Gerald refused to look at him; instead his gaze remained locked on Higgins, who was currently taking his umpteenth bath of the day.

“I love you, Tony. You know that, right?”

A smartass reply rose to his lips but he slapped it down when he recognized the anxious tone in Gerald’s voice. “If there’s one thing I know is true above all else, it’s that . . . your love for me.”

Gerald continued to stare at Higgins and that alone was beginning to scare the hell out of Tony.

“Gerald?”

Trembling fingers tangled themselves in his hair and tightened on his skull.

“I’ve never cheated on you,” Gerald hoarsely whispered. “Never looked at another man, never thought about another man, not once. It’s always been you for me. Nobody else.”

The lightbulb of clarity suddenly clicked on and Tony tightened his hold. “This is about Jethro, isn’t it?” He lifted his hand to Gerald’s face and smoothed a thumb over his cheek before tracing his ear and jawline. He waited for his lover to speak but no words came. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Scooting Higgins to the side, Gerald collapsed into his arms with a sound Tony prayed he’d never hear again. The pain of that sound devastated him and he spent the next few seconds blinking back tears while crushing Gerald tight to his chest.

“I’m not sure where you’re going with this but nothing’s gonna change what you and I have. You’re my world as the tattoo on your chest plainly says.”

One late night during their trip back to D.C., a night where Jethro had been the one to sleep alone, the discussion of tattoos had come up and he’d asked Gerald if he would agree to one. His lover had consented and shortly after their arrival home, the two of them had visited a local tattoo shop. Above Gerald’s heart now rested an image of the Earth as seen from the moon. Above the planet were the words, ‘You Are My World.’ He had chosen that image specifically as a reminder to Gerald, a reminder of his complete and total commitment to their relationship, a reminder Gerald would see every time he looked in a mirror.

“You know I’m getting the feeling we’ve been here and done this. Why are you---”

His ass hit the ground when Gerald tore himself from his arms and rose to his feet. Rubbing his abused behind, he watched Gerald furiously pace the area in front of him. Pulling himself up, he took a seat on the swing but before he could even put it in motion, his lap was instantly filled with a most piqued feline. He soothed Higgins’ offended feelings while listening to Gerald mutter to himself.

“ . . . didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“He’s . . . there are **all** these feelings and I . . .”

“ . . . his kisses are . . . you **know** what his kisses . . .”

“I mean, one minute we weren’t and then we . . .”

“His hands . . . they’re rough as hell but **damn** , if they don’t feel . . .”

“ . . . and even though we’ve only just now started exploring . . . last night on the couch . . .”

“No matter what happens . . . will **NEVER** love him as much as I love you.”

Gerald stopped pacing and grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard. “You believe me, don’t you?”

Tony was still held captive by the image of one of Jethro's callused hands wrapped around Gerald’s monster dick and could only stare in confusion at his lover.

"Huh?”

As if his legs could no longer hold his weight Gerald dropped to his knees in front of him and confessed, “I think I’m in love with Jethro.”

His lover copied his position from earlier and circled his hips with his arms before resting his forehead on his knee. “I know I promised my heart to you but . . .” Fumbling hands wormed their way under his shirt and spread across his lower back. “I love you, Tony. You gotta believe that.”

“As God is my witness . . .”

A baleful glare stopped his movie quote dead in its tracks.

With a wry grin, Tony continued, “. . . I will never doubt your love for me.”

“Sorry, Higgs.” He gently removed their counselor from his lap and placed him on the ground. As soon as his lap was free, Gerald was filling it. Straddling his hips and thighs, Gerald pulled him into an embrace that left no doubt as to his feelings. Tony allowed the desperate hug to continue as long as Gerald needed and it was only when Gerald loosened his hold that he devoured his lover’s mouth with a kiss that hopefully obliterated all confusion, all guilt and all anxiety.

“ _You’re my main man_ ,” Tony whisper-sang in Gerald’s ear. He knew Gerald loved Cher and would recognize the tune.

“Asshole,” Gerald half-heartedly punched him in the chest but then answered in return with his deep base voice, “ _When you call my heart goes sailing_.”

Tony touched his forehead to Gerald’s and sang, “ _Torn between two lovers, feeling like a fool_.” This time Gerald didn’t answer and he was forced to finish, “ _Loving both of you is breaking all the rules_.”

“Is that what we’re doing? Breaking all the rules?” Gerald asked.

“Hey, if that doesn’t describe me, you and Jethro, then I don’t know what does. We three are rule breakers to the max and proud of it.”

He set the swing in motion the moment Gerald took a seat next to him. Taking possession of his man’s hand he rested it in his lap. “I know what you’re feeling, G-man. When Jethro finally got his head out of his ass and confessed his love for me, I was facing the same dilemma. How do you make room in your heart for a second person when that heart is already filled to the max with someone else?”

Gerald let out another pained noise but Tony stopped it with a kiss. “Babe, it’s okay. Let Jethro in. I know he’ll never take my place in your heart. Me and you . . .” He held up their clasped hands. “. . . we’re solid. Our love for one another is S. O. L. I. D., solid. You believe that, right?”

He waited until Gerald nodded his head before continuing, “And I know I really shouldn’t talk for Jethro but I’m pretty sure he’s fallen in love with you, too. The way he looks at you . . . I can’t describe it . . . but it makes my heart bleed. He truly cares for you and if you have the same feelings for him as he does for you . . . don’t **not** act on them because you think it will destroy what we have.” He kissed Gerald again. “It won’t.”

He winked at his lover. “Of course, you must promise me one thing.”

Gerald rolled his eyes. “And just what is that, Slick?”

Tony pulled Gerald off the swing and guided him in the direction of the house. “A front row seat, babe. I want to be up close and personal when Jethro nails your ass to the mattress.” He stumbled at the images flooding his brain. “I swear just the thought of that is gonna make me cream my jeans.”

Gerald stopped him with a firm hand to his crotch. “Maybe we should test that claim.”

Tony examined his lover’s face and saw the peace reflected in his dark, chocolate-colored eyes. He quickly sent up a prayer to the heavens. _Thank you, God, for blessing my life with these two incredible men._

Laughing with pure joy, he plastered his back to the nearest tree and pulled Gerald into the space created by his widespread legs.

“You’re on.”

 

-end-

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs quoted belong to Cher (Main Man) and Mary MacGregor (Torn Between Two Lovers). Thanks to 'Rocketscientists' for suggesting the latter song!
> 
> If you've never seen the short-lived TV series, Firefly and its follow-up, big-screen movie, Serenity, do so immediately! You won't regret it.
> 
> For some reason, I really had a hard time with this chapter, rewriting it constantly. Any glaring OOC mistakes, let me know. 
> 
> And as always, major hugs of appreciation for all your support! As God is my witness . . . each hit, kudo, comment is treasured!!!


	8. Testing the New Equation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerald and Jethro continue testing the waters.

 

 

“Ger! Your ride is here!”

Gerald glanced over his shoulder in confusion and discovered Derek Burke pointing in the direction of the school parking lot. He put his conversation with the students in his study group on hold but not before confirming the date for their next session. “Tuesday night, 7pm, at Angela’s. Right?”

“Don’t forget you’re assigned to bring some sort of snack.” Mickey Chambers reminded him. The former Virginia Cavalier quarterback was slated to graduate with honors which, considering his poor academic standing during his first year, was a miracle in itself.

Pulling out his cell he added the date to his calendar while nodding his understanding, “I’ll bring Tony’s famous salsa dip and chips. Okay?”

“Make it spicy, dude! Need the heat to keep us awake and alert,” Mickey added with a laugh.

Adding his own laughter to the mix, Gerald exited the building and joined Derek on the sidewalk. “You must be confused, bro.” He held up his cell. “Tony texted me at lunch and confirmed he’d call when he was on his way. They’re off site today.” He checked for any missed calls, just in case. “Nope, no call yet. So, whoever that is, they’re not here for me.”

“Not according to that guy.” Derek pointed at the Dodge Intrepid idling at the curb. The driver’s side window lowered half-way, allowing him a glance at the person driving.

“Oh shit.”

His backpack dropped from his nerveless fingers and fell on his right foot. The pain didn’t even register with him because he was pretty sure he had lost his mind and was hallucinating out his ass.

“Jethro?”

The hallucination spoke.

“A certain someone informed me of your dilemma.”

Snatching up his backpack, he cautiously approached the vehicle just in case his hallucination proved wrong and the man luring him into the car was a serial killer. “My dilemma?”

“Car in shop. Car-less. Needs a ride home.”

Jethro finished lowering the window and Gerald gripped the door in a desperate attempt to keep from falling on his ass. His breath caught in his throat when his unexpected chauffeur dropped his sunshades and locked gazes with him. The late afternoon sunshine captured the startling blue of Jethro’s eyes and the unspoken emotion visible on his face.

Gerald swore his heart skipped not one but quite a few beats at the blatant evidence of Jethro's desire for him. “You left work? For me?”

A familiar eyebrow took an upwards hike at the same time gorgeous blue eyes rolled in frustration. “I have been known to leave before quitting time,” Jethro groused.

Gerald snorted as he made his way around the car and slid into the front passenger’s seat. Buckling himself in, he snarked, “And I’m sure there’s a plaque somewhere at NCIS headquarters commemorating that auspicious day.”

“Smartass.” Jethro put the car in gear and eased into traffic.

Digging in his backpack for the thermos of apple juice he carried to classes every day, Gerald was about to inquire as to Tony’s whereabouts, when his words died a quick death.

“Uh . . .”

He stared at the hand resting high on his thigh and nearly had a heart attack when the hand began massaging the area.

“Uh . . .”

The portion of his brain that controlled language had obviously gone on vacation to a southerly location and had no intention of returning home. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand on top of Jethro's and eased it off his leg. He didn’t let go; instead, he tangled their fingers together and secretly smiled when Jethro accepted the alteration with an audible growl of frustration. That sound elicited a noticeable shiver on his part which only brought about another growl of frustration that should never be heard outside the intimate sanctuary of their bedroom.

“Jethro.”

“Gerald.”

His thermos of juice forgotten, Gerald forced his gaze forward and concentrated on the oncoming traffic as another shiver raced through his body. Unfair, unfair. Jethro was using _the voice_.

On more than one occasion Tony had bragged on the carnal potency of Jethro's voice and how the very sound of it could set him on fire and cause him to lose all control. Gnawing on his lower lip, Gerald recalled several late night, long-distance phone calls between Tony and Jethro right before they moved back home. There had been one particular call that Tony had placed on speaker in hopes of encouraging his active participation. Instead of joining in on the rather lengthy conversation, he had simply taken up his position as _big spoon_ and listened to Jethro discussing various topics with Tony. He remembered the conversation had turned somewhat intimate when Jethro began discussing their upcoming living arrangements at Casa Gibbs. .

Lifting his free hand to his face, he felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment . . . he could still remember the hasty rush to the bathroom in order to hide his body’s blatant reaction to Jethro's husky, low-pitch voice. He’d laughingly blamed the abrupt exit on the Chinese take-out they’d eaten for supper but he knew from the knowing look on Tony’s face that his excuse had been seen as the obvious lie it was.

And now that he and Jethro were acting on their feelings for each other, he was throwing boners all hours of the day and night. Last night was a prime example. Tony had pleaded total exhaustion once their evening meal was finished and had gone straight to bed. Gerald had followed Tony upstairs and had spent nearly a half hour sharing lazy kisses before his lover fell asleep. After taking a shower, he had returned to the kitchen with the sole intention of washing dishes and had fully expected to find the room empty. To say he was secretly pleased to discover Jethro lingering by the fridge was an understatement. The older man had offered up the excuse of making a final pot of coffee before bed but the counter held none of the usual items needed for such an activity.

Clueless as usual, he had moved to the sink and was in the process of adding dish detergent to the hot water pouring from the tap when Jethro stepped up behind him. There was no mistaking the man’s intention and Gerald remembered moaning like a B-movie porn star when Jethro pressed his erection firmly against his ass. Over the next hour more filthy noises had spilled from his mouth and by the time Jethro had finished with him, not only was he sporting several bite marks on his neck and shoulders but the front of his shirt and jeans had been soaked with both hot sudsy water and semen.

The dishes had eventually gotten washed and Jethro's coffee made but it had been quite late before those tasks were accomplished.

A squeeze of his hand brought him back to the present. Closing his eyes, he willed his traitorous body to relax. “This is **not** a deliberate attempt at seduction,” he muttered to himself. “This is Jethro doing me a favor. That’s all.” A rebellious finger repeatedly brushed his outer thigh and he began his mantra again. “This is not a deliberate attempt at seduc---”

“I’m told talking to one’s self is a sure sign of insanity.”

_You have no idea._

Gerald desperately grabbed for a lifeline.

“Umm . . . if you don’t mind . . .” He rushed out his request, hoping against hope his chauffeur would agree to a delay in returning home. No use ending what was shaping up to be a most memorable afternoon.

“Doyouthinkwecouldgogroceryshopping?” Gerald had quickly learned Jethro wasn’t exactly a patient participant when it came to shopping of any kind. The man was more of a ‘ _you need it, grab it and be damn quick about it’_ shopper.

Taking a deep breath, he played his ace, “Not only are we basically out of everything, but you ate your last steak Sunday night.” He crossed his fingers and prayed that the adage – the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach – was true.

“Already on it,” Jethro said before handing over a crumpled slip of paper. “I had Tony make a list before leaving work.”

Gerald stared blindly at the list while trying to keep his emotions in check. Not only had Jethro left work early for him but the man was _volunteering_ to go shopping with him. If that wasn’t an outright declaration of love, he didn’t know what was.

The miracle of all miracles continued.

“Also, it’s time for Higgin’s yearly check-up, right?” Jethro didn’t wait for a confirmation. “I had Tony make us an appointment with Ducky’s vet for this coming Saturday at 11am and since the team’s got that mandatory workshop to attend, I figured I’d go with you. Maybe even tag along for the weekly visit to your sister’s. Genevieve’s her name, right? Seems it’s about time the two of us meet.”

Gerald swiped at his suddenly moist eyes. It was official; he was in love with Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

“What have you done with the real Gibbs?” he choked out, his gaze riveted on their entwined fingers.

The grip on his hand tightened. “That old bastard? Well, he’s probably back at NCIS headquarters trying his best to rip that commemorative plaque off the wall.”

Laughter bubbled up and out and Gerald was soon swiping at his eyes for a completely different reason. “I can see it now. The team cowering in fear, you ripping it off the wall and shoving it in that desk drawer of yours, you know the one with all those medals of accommodation you refuse to acknowledge.”

“Hmmm . . . cowering in fear, huh? Yep, sounds about right.”

Turning to the side, Gerald blatantly stared at Jethro and melted at the sight of the very rare grin the man reserved for just him and Tony. He looked down at their hands and remembered when that smile had belonged solely to Tony but not anymore. Since he and Jethro had finally come to terms with their feelings for each other that smile was now his to treasure.

“Would it be okay if I kiss you?” They were currently stopped at a red light. Soon they would reach the interstate and considering how fast Jethro normally drove, this would be their only opportunity to kiss without endangering their lives.

“Just what the doctor ordered,” Jethro answered. “Dr. Mallard, that is. Ducky took me to lunch today and lectured me on my wooing -- his word, not mine -- skills.” Jethro grinned openly this time. “He seems to think I’m a hopeless case when it comes to showing my affection.”

Gerald frowned slightly when Jethro worked his hand free of their handclasp. His frown relaxed into a hopeful smile when Jethro used that hand to take possession of his neck and guide him toward his side of the car.

“On the drive here, _this_ was all I could think of,” Jethro murmured before offering up his mouth.

The kiss was brief and hot as hell and involved just the tiniest bit of tongue play.

Perfect.

Gerald slid back into his seat and tried his best to get his brain working. “Well, you can tell Ducky there is absolutely **nothing** wrong with your kissing skills.”

“Haven’t had a complaint yet.”

Gerald was still chuckling when a certain hand tried once more to claim his thigh for Team Gibbs. He stared at the misbehaving appendage and thought about lecturing it but quickly discarded those thoughts. This was Jethro wooing and who was he to discourage him.

Leaning his head back, he watched the car weave in and out of traffic. He thought about checking the speed at which Jethro was driving but decided he was better off not knowing. No use adding additional gray hairs to the collection he already had.

It took a few minutes before he realized the direction Jethro was driving and he turned around and looked out the rear window just to confirm his suspicions. “Correct me if I’m wrong but aren’t we going in the wrong direction?”

“Nope.” Jethro slowed to exit US-1 South and turned onto Oblitz Road. “Used to stop here on my way back from Quantico. Good selection of beer and steaks. Plus . . .”

Jethro locked eyes with him before moving his hand higher up his thigh. “. . . pretty sure we won’t run into anyone we know.”

Gerald stared wide-eyed at Jethro. “Uh . . . okay?” The hand on his thigh transferred its grip to his fingers and squeezed, causing him to look down at their hands.

“You see this?” Jethro lifted their hands. “I want to go somewhere where I can do this and not be reported. I want to touch you; I want to show the world how much I care for you, and I can’t do that anywhere near work or home.”

Jethro transferred their clasped hands to his side of the car and rested them on his thigh. “I want you touch me and not be afraid of what the consequences may mean to my career.”

His hand was set free but only long enough to be molded to Jethro's knee.

“Is that okay with you?”

Gerald tore his eyes away from where his hand rested and stared at Jethro. He had heard the uncertainty in the man’s voice and rushed to assure him.

“More than okay with me. In fact . . .” He momentarily cast his eyes down, afraid of what Jethro would read in his expression. “You have no idea how jealous I was of you and Tony on the trip from San Diego. The way the two of you were so open with each other. And even though we weren’t involved at that point, it hurt not to be included.”

Gerald looked up in surprise when Jethro threw the car in park and cut off the engine.

“Well, it’ll be my pleasure to set things right in regards to that.”

Jethro released his seat belt and leaned across to kiss him, leaving him gasping for breath and clutching at the man’s blazer. Of course, the breathlessness could have been caused more so by the fingers brushing repeatedly against his crotch than the kiss itself, but that was a quandary he’d leave for another day. Jethro was out of the car and waiting for him with what was definitely a smug-as-hell look on his face.

They walked side by side into the store, Jethro's arm thrown possessively across his shoulders. It was definitely . . .

 

 

“. . . the best day ever.”

Gerald climbed into bed naked and immediately straddled Tony’s narrow hips. He moaned when their freshly shaved groins came in contact with each other and hurriedly reached for the bottle of lube that had been tossed on the bed earlier. He expertly coated Tony’s fingers and hummed with pleasure when they found their way to his hole and spent several minutes teasing him.

“Did I tell you he left work early?”

“Yes, repeatedly.”

Lube-slick fingers suddenly invaded his ass and he ceased all movement so that he could enjoy the first breathtaking tendrils of desire. This part, the foreplay, the slow preparation, it never got old; this was the part he loved.

His gaze zeroed in on Tony’s chest and the two erect nubbins of flesh that were begging for his mouth. “I can’t believe he did that, took off early just so that he could spend time with me.”

Tony came off the bed, forcing him to release the nipple he had decided to torture with his teeth.

“He . . . FUCK, G-man!” Tony flopped back down on the bed and refocused his efforts on his previous endeavor. Once finished, he wiped his fingers clean before declaring, “Jethro loves you, babe. He may not say it, but he does. Today proves it, right?”

Gerald locked hands with Tony and slowly lowered himself down on the rock-hard cock knocking on his backdoor. “Jesus, that feels good.”

Again, all movement ceased. He still needed time to process his most awesome day.

“The whole time we were in the store . . . he never left my side. I mean, it was like we were newlyweds or something. Couldn’t stand to be parted from each other.”

Gerald dug his thumbs into Tony’s navel and grinned at the quivering abdominal muscles that welcomed the simple maneuver.

“And there was hugging, Tony. Hugging! Arm around shoulder hugging. Aaannnd . . .”

He traced each one of Tony’s rectus abdominis muscles and murmured his appreciation of the hard-won six pack before continuing, “. . . there was, what can only be labeled as _very_ suggestive whisperings at the meat counter.”

His lover’s lower abdomen soon became stained with the pre-come dribbling from his dick and Gerald didn’t hesitate collecting a taste of himself for Tony to savor. “Thank God, our number was called. If Jethro hadn’t gone to collect his order of steaks, I’m not sure what would have happened. Spontaneous combustion, maybe?”

“Wha . . . what did he whisper?” Greedy hands reached for his erection but he denied them permission to touch.

Gerald grinned at the husky curses heaped upon his head. Leaning forward, he tugged on Tony’s left earlobe with his teeth before sharing Jethro's brazen suggestions.

Straightening, he glanced down at the mess his dick was making and grinned, “Yeah, had the same reaction earlier today. Good thing I was wearing my black jeans.”

Tightening his rectal muscles, he rose up until only the tip of Tony’s cock was still seated within his body. “And his kisses, Slick? I think I’m addicted to them.” He slid down an inch then reversed directions, slid down a little more then again reversed directions.

Tony was nearly incoherent by now and could only gasp, “Huh?”

Gerald quickly slammed down and claimed Tony’s scream with his mouth. He took a few moments to soothe his trembling lover before continuing, “His kisses, Slick. How do you survive working an entire shift without a kiss? I’d go nuts, I’m sure.”

“It’s hard,” Tony panted. “His kisses are so lethal.”

“Like I said, haven’t had a complaint yet.”

Gerald froze. Coffee-flavored lips stole the air trapped in his lungs and set his heart to racing the Indy 500. Callused fingers trailed down his throat before detouring to each nipple, spending seconds pinching and tugging on the sensitive peaks of flesh. He swore a finger flicked the tip of his erection but he couldn’t be sure. His eyes was glued to the heavy-lidded gaze taking a slow, detailed tour of his nakedness.

“Maybe next time we can share those hugs and kisses and . . .” A whisper promising complete and utter destruction teased his ear, “. . . _suggestions_ with Tony.”

Twin howls of completion witnessed Jethro's bare-ass exit of their bedroom.

Gerald collapsed down on a chest slick with sweat and semen. “He’s gonna kill me, isn’t he?”

“Yep.”

Tony began to softly snore in his ear.

Replaying Jethro's shocking proposal, Gerald shivered uncontrollably.

“Good.”

 

-end-

  


	9. Defending the New Equation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ducky steps up to the plate for his three friends.

  

“From the way you’re staring at him, I feel it is safe to say you have opened your heart to Jethro?”

It was a statement wrapped in a question, and Ducky was pretty sure he knew the answer but he waited for Gerald to confirm his assessment.

It had been a week since Gerald had sought him out and reported the change in his relationship with Jethro. He had slipped on his _father_ persona and earnestly listened to Gerald’s every word while mentally doing, as the young people put it, his happy dance. He loved his _sons_ and had secretly hoped the three would truly come to love each other and enjoy their unique relationship.

The sound of Abigail laughing briefly distracted him and by the time he looked back, Gerald had vacated his chair and was walking toward the area of the veranda where the outside lunch buffet had been set up. The fact that Jethro was standing there examining the variety of beverages on hand and greeted Gerald’s arrival with not only one of his rare smiles but also a firm, albeit, brief embrace only reinforced his earlier declaration.

“I rest my case.”

Once again his attention was captured by Abigail’s infectious laughter. She and Anthony were regaling young Timothy with what could only be a dubious tale of misadventure and from the look on the face of their colleague, Timothy had his own doubts regarding the validity of the story.

The entire team had been invited to his home for a weekend luncheon at his mother’s request. The addition of Namenda to his mother’s medication regimen had greatly improved her mental status, and he found he could not deny her the simple joy of visiting with his work-family.

“If he hurts even one hair on my brother’s head, I swear you will never find his body. Hell, if he hurts T-love, my brothers won’t have to worry about killing the bastard, I’ll do it myself.”

Ducky glanced to his left and discovered Gerald’s lovely twin sister glaring at Jethro with evil intent. Genevieve Jackson had grudgingly accepted his invitation to the luncheon and probably wouldn’t have come without her brother’s encouragement. The young woman was in no way a fan of Jethro's and had yet to accept his presence in Gerald’s life despite the glowing accolades put forth by both her brother and Tony. Jethro would have to work extremely hard to gain Miss Genevieve’s approval, and it was a battle of wills he looked forward to witnessing.

“Please, no bloodshed. It would absolutely ruin the marble flooring, flooring which I might add was a significant bone of contention between my aged mother and our contractor during the months of construction on this veranda.”

“I’m just saying, he messes with mine and I’ll---”

Deciding it was time to diffuse the situation, he took the young woman’s hand and turned her in the opposite direction of the buffet and led her toward his mother’s renowned rose garden.

“I sincerely cannot believe how much you remind me of a former acquaintance.” He paused to collect his memories from the past. “Zara, her name was. An exquisitely beautiful young woman not only in looks but also in spirit. I met her and her husband while on assignment in Somalia in the early seventies. Of course I cannot divulge the details of that encounter, but rest assured all involved did not suffer any lasting harm. And if my memory serves me right, lovely Zara went on to become a very famous model but unfortunately, she changed her name and at this moment I cannot recall it. But nevertheless, you remind me of her and please rest assured, your brother will come to no harm.”

Quite a few seconds passed before Genevieve responded. Shaking her head, she stared hard at him as if determining his true mental status. He gave her his best smile and continued smiling despite the frown that immediately marred the young woman’s exceptional features.

“Humph. Well . . . just so you know, I watch all those police procedural type shows and I’m pretty sure I know how to make a body disappear . . . permanently”

“I don’t doubt that you do, my dear, but please believe me, Jethro both admires Gerald and cares for him deeply. He will not cause your brother any harm, nor allow anyone else to do so. Jethro is a good man. Just ask our young Anthony here.”

Without even looking, he reached out and snagged Anthony by the arm, preventing him from being apprehended by his approaching mother and her corgi, Bert. The latter two he expertly sent in the direction of his assistant.

“Mother dear, have you met my young Mr. Palmer? He joined our team shortly before Gerald and Anthony left for San Diego.”

Disaster diverted, he made his way to the buffet table and began filling a plate with food.

“The three of them are together, aren’t they?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Ignoring Caitlin, he continued on with the task of filling his plate and was about to share the story of how he and Princess Margaret and a plate of cucumber sandwiches . . .

“I’m not blind, Ducky, nor am I stupid,” Kate interrupted.

She tipped her glass of wine in the direction he had just come from. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Genevieve was now surrounded by all three men in question, Gerald, Tony and Jethro. And even though Jethro stood with Genevieve while Tony and Gerald stood opposite with their arms around each other’s waists, it didn’t take a rocket scientist nor an NCIS profiler to see the three men had feelings for one another.

Turning back, Ducky claimed his companion’s attention with a stern look. “As much as I adore you, Caitlin, I will not stand by and allow you to interfere with the lives of Anthony and Gerald. You nearly destroyed their relationship when you informed on---”

“I was warning a friend,” Kate pouted.

“No, you weren’t. Gerald and you have never been friends. Acquaintances, yes. Friends, never.” He took Caitlin by the arm and steered her in the direction of Mr. Palmer, who desperately appeared in need of rescuing.

“As everyone knows, you delight in antagonizing Anthony and in that moment, when you saw him with Jethro, you made the conscious decision to sabotage his relationship with Gerald.”

He collected Bert from Palmer’s arms and shooed the man on his way. “And as much as I love you, Caitlin, if you do anything to harm those three men, I will end your career as a federal agent.” He invaded Caitlin’s personal space. “I have a past, my dear, and I won’t hesitate to use my connections to ensure your removal. Ah . . . Mother dear, here is our beautiful Caitlin. Please show her your roses.”

His mother stared down her nose at Caitlin and haughtily asked, “And who are you?”

Ducky handed off Bert to the now speechless woman and returned to his discarded plate of food.

“You, my love, are a master in the art of misdirection and diversion.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Ignoring the hand brushing down his back and along his waist, Ducky collected his plate and moved to sit at one of the small tables scattered across the veranda. Once seated, he took one of his cucumber sandwiches and held it out for his lover’s inspection. “Have I ever told you about my first encounter with Princess Margaret?”

The sandwich was stolen from his fingers and enjoyed with great enthusiasm if the smile on Napoleon’s face was any indication.

“Have I ever told you about my first encounter with a British SAS officer by the name of Donald Mallard?” Napoleon countered.

“Was that encounter as noteworthy as mine?” Ducky enquired, knowing full well his lover was about to tempt him with a suggestion that, no doubt, was inappropriate for an afternoon luncheon. Of course, it went without saying that he would succumb to whatever Napoleon suggested, he loved the man that much.

His lover leaned forward and snatched another sandwich. “Let’s just say it was an encounter I wouldn’t mind re-living as in . . . do you think we could steal away for an hour? I find I’m hungry for something more substantial than these damn cucumber sandwiches.”

“I do believe I catered to your insatiable appetite this morning but if you are indeed hungry once again, I’ll meet you . . . oh no.”

Directly in his line of sight was Jethro and Abigail, the latter of whom was angrily signing what could only be discerned as a warning of serious portent. The furious slashing of the hands, the finger pointing, much less the finger shaking, all of which were directed at a most bemused Jethro, was a definite indication of Abigail’s disturbed emotional state.

“Oh, what has he done now?”

He was rising from his seat when Napoleon caught his hand and prevented him from attending to the potential clashing of co-workers.

“Let them be, Donald,” Napoleon softly instructed.

“But Jethro---”

“. . . is a grown man. I’m sure he can handle Miss Sciuto.”

“Abigail is Gerald and Anthony’s most staunch defender. If she sees Jethro as a threat, there is no telling---”

“Let them be. Jethro does not need you fighting his battles.”

Ducky reclaimed his seat but kept a fierce eye on the two combatants. “I find myself agreeing with Gerald; it is time he and Anthony find their own place to dwell. The longer they stay with Jethro, the more suspicious their co-workers will become.”

Forgetting both his plate of food and Napoleon’s earlier suggestion, he began searching his surroundings. “I wonder where Mother put today’s newspaper. Maybe I could assist Gerald and Anthony by perusing the real estate adverts.” He agitatedly tapped his fingers against the table’s surface. “What type of dwelling do you suppose they would want? A house, a brownstone, an apartment? How many bedrooms? An extra one for Jethro, of course. Although unless my eyes deceive me, one bedroom would suffice if it came furnished with a king-sized bed.”

His restless hand was captured and pressed flat against the table. “Slow down, my love. Breathe.”

After taking several deep breaths, Donald smiled at his lover. “I must confess I am quite the romantic and watching the three of them grow to love one another has, indeed, brought out the Cupid in me.”

Napoleon leaned forward again and this time Ducky was pleasantly surprised with a very thorough kiss. “I do believe I’ll have to indulge in more deep breathing. That was quite a kiss, Napoleon.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two of them sat with their hands clasped and silently watched as the party progressed. Every now and then a co-worker would approach, engage them in conversation and, upon their leaving, Ducky would make an astute assessment regarding them, upon which, Napoleon would wisely murmur his agreement. It wasn’t until everyone except Gerald, Anthony and Jethro had departed that Napoleon offered up a proposal that reminded Ducky exactly why he loved the man.

“You do realize my D.C. apartment is still on the market? Do you think your boys would be interested in leasing it . . . at an affordable price, of course?”

“Napoleon Solo! I would take you where you sit except for the fact that the improperness of the act would cause my beloved Mother to perish of a heart attack.”

Silencing his chuckling lover with a kiss Ducky then jumped to his feet and rushed toward the rose gardens where he had last seen Gerald. He nearly collided with his mother’s treasured Lady Emma Hamilton rose bushes when he hastily rounded the corner of the garden where they were planted. He caught sight of Jethro kissing Gerald as if his life depended on it and, considering how desperately the two men were grasping at each other, it could actually be true. He felt his eyes widen with stunned amazement when Jethro yanked on Gerald’s shirt, biting the younger man’s shoulder the instant it was bared.

Ducky knew he stopped breathing when Gerald threw back his head and throatily begged for Jethro to bite him harder. When Jethro complied with the urgent plea while palming the obvious erection between Gerald’s legs, Ducky swore his heart was going to shut down from pure shock.

“Oh!”

“Come away, Donald.”

“They’re . . .  I mean . . . I knew but . . . did you see . . . he **bit** Gerald! And . . . his hand, did you see where his . . .”

“Come to the house, my love and let’s see if I can coax you into making those same sounds.”

“But, biting? What if he hurt . . .”

“I promise you, Gerald is not in pain.”

“You’ve never bitten me,” Ducky turned and looked at his lover. The feral light in Napoleon’s eyes made him shiver with anticipation. “Maybe we should explore this phenomenon?”

“Sounds like the perfect way to spend what remains of our afternoon. Shall we retire to our rooms?”

“God, yes!”

They hurried passed the table where Anthony was regaling his mother and Bert with the details of their latest case. The young agent’s knowing smirk followed them inside the house but was verily soon forgotten.

 

-end-

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Finalizing the New Equation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A crimson kiss solidifies the relationship between our threesome.

 

“Where’s Tony?”

Jethro took the plate Gerald handed him and frowned at the pile of fresh fruit that dwarfed the portions of scrambled egg whites and turkey bacon his breakfast chef had prepared for him. Taking a sip of his freshly brewed java, he briefly mourned the artery-clogging breakfasts of the past, the ones that had included biscuits, eggs, sausage, bacon and coffee strong enough to peel paint off the wall. Those were the good old days.

He again frowned at the food on his plate. It seemed both Tony and Gerald were determined he correct his diet, and basically he was pretty much compliant. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. There was one specific food group he would go to his grave eating and that was red meat. He’d be damned if he was going to give up his steaks. Man needed red meat and he was a MAN, just ask . . .

“Tony. Where’d you say he was?”

Gerald did nothing to hide his grin. “Soaking in the tub last I saw him. Seems a certain someone, and I’m not naming any names, rode him hard last night and put him up wet. Uh, so I’m told.”

The memory of Tony surrendering to him after a half hour or so of wrestling for dominance was still fresh in his mind, and he couldn’t help biting into his turkey bacon with a little bit more enthusiasm than usual. He was definitely the Alpha male of this group and even though he occasionally submitted to his young lover, last night had been all about reminding Tony he was loved and cherished and that their relationship was stronger than ever, especially considering the current circumstances.

He took another bite of his bacon. “It was a good ride, if I say so myself.”

The sound of choking pulled him away from the replay of last night’s final moments. Looking up, he saw Gerald hunkered over the sink, coughing for all he was worth.

“Gerald!” Slamming his chair back, he rushed over and pounded on the man’s back several times. “You okay?”

“Coffee,” Gerald rasped. “Went down . . .” He coughed several more times. “. . . went down the wrong way.”

Jethro kept a hand anchored to the base of Gerald’s neck until the man recovered. He grumbled with annoyance when Gerald turned around and made no attempt to hide the amused expression on his face. 

“For a moment there, you looked just like Higgins after he’s caught and devoured a lizard.” Gerald looked down and his grin grew in size. “Speak of the devil.” He bent down and scooped up the feline in question. “Come on, Higgins, show Jethro your smug-as-hell look.”

Higgins complied.

Again, Jethro grumbled under his breath but this time he added a roll of the eyes. “I’m pretty sure he wears that look 24/7.” He acknowledged the group’s second Alpha male with a lengthy scratching under the chin.

“No, no. Higgins has a plethora of facial expressions.” Gerald rubbed noses with the cat before continuing. “Just to name a few, there’s his ‘I’ll come when I damn well feel like it’ look, his ‘touch me and you die’ look. The famous ‘I don’t care if you need to change these sheets; I’m not moving,’ look and most importantly, ‘If you don’t feed me right this second, someone will be waking up tomorrow singing soprano.’”

Higgins liberated himself from Gerald’s grasp and immediately went in search of food.

“Don’t worry. Another month or so and you’ll have learned all his expressions.”

The grin on Gerald’s face died a quick death but before Jethro could figure out the reason why, Gerald had returned his attention to preparing Tony’s breakfast. He watched the younger man while replaying the final bits of their conversation. Gerald’s last words finally registered and without hesitation he took up a position behind the man, reaching around him to turn off the burner and remove the spatula from his hand.

“Gerald.” He circled Gerald’s chest with both arms and pulled him away from the stove. “I know. I hate it as much as you do.”

He pressed his mouth to the fresh passion mark Tony had given Gerald earlier that morning and sucked hard enough to ensure the bruise on the man’s neck would take much longer to fade. This was something he now did on a routine basis, laid his mark on Gerald in some form or fashion. Sometimes, like now, he reinforced a hickey laid down by Tony; other times, his mark of possession came in the shape of a bite, which surprisingly Gerald not only enjoyed but encouraged more often than not.

“Jethro, please.”

His lips curved into a smile of pride before sucking harder on Gerald’s neck. See? Encouraged.

Things between them had changed the night Tony’s Corvette was destroyed in a high speed car chase. They had both acknowledged their feelings for each other and were cautiously exploring a physical relationship. Of course, his inner Alpha was feverishly demanding more but he’d placed an iron fist of control on his base nature and was allowing Gerald to set the pace.

He pulled on the shoulder of the _Laker’s_ jersey Gerald routinely wore to bed and bared a section of skin. Growling, he set his teeth to the dark flesh and slowly increased the pressure until a breathless gasp escaped into the silence. He immediately soothed the bite with lingering kisses before declaring in a voice that was husky and weighted with emotion, “You and Tony belong to me. No matter where you end up moving, you two are mine.”

Jethro loosened his hold, allowing Gerald to twist around and face him. They touched forehead to forehead, Gerald closing his eyes and inhaling deeply for several seconds before breaking free and stepping back. Jethro welcomed the hand that briefly cupped the side of his face and offered a kiss of welcome to the thumb that repeatedly swept across his lips. “You know you don’t have to---”

Gerald jerked away and vehemently shook his head. “No. We’ve discussed this. I will not allow you guys to throw away your careers for me. No, absolutely not.”

Jethro grabbed Gerald and hauled him close once again, wrapping him in a hug that hopefully communicated the one emotion he had the greatest difficulty expressing in words. “I know we’ve discussed this but if Tony and I have to quit our jobs for this equation to work, then so be it. It’s a sacrifice we’re prepared to make.”

A muffled ‘No!’ from where Gerald was hiding his face was his answer.

“Gerald.”

Gerald extricated himself and held up a hand to prevent any further contact. “I will **not** be the reason for the failure of this relationship. And we both know that’s exactly what’s going to happen if you and Tony resign. You love your work and forcing you to quit doing something you love just so the three of us can live together will only come back to bite **me** in the ass.”

Frowning, Gerald took a seat at the kitchen table and reached out to stroke a hand over Higgin’s head and down his back. “I know you both said you’d never blame me but you’re wrong. Your resentment of me would grow over the years and . . .”

Gerald fell silent for several seconds. Finally he spoke and the destruction in his voice was like a sucker punch to the gut for Jethro.

“I can handle a lot of shit but losing you and Tony because of **that** would destroy me.”

Closing his eyes against the pain of an impending headache, Jethro rubbed his forehead. For the past couple of days the three of them had been arguing over the necessity of Gerald and Tony moving out in order to keep their relationship from going public. Time was running out and it wouldn’t be long before someone figured out his offer of hospitality had an ulterior motive.

Someone like . . . he glanced down at Gerald’s bent head and defeated slope of shoulders.

On more than one occasion during the past three months, Kate and McGee, along with Abby, had appeared on his doorstep, wanting nothing more than to visit with Tony and Gerald. Without fail, the question of ‘when will you be getting your own place?’ had worked its way into the conversation and they were quickly running out of answers for the delay.

Not to mention, he was getting damned tired of Kate’s _Cheshire_ smiles and snarky verbal jabs. Maybe it was time to introduce his hand to back of her head.

“Damn all profilers,” he muttered to himself

Unclenching his fists, he made a concerted effort to keep from grinding his teeth in absolute frustration. He despised the restraints placed upon them by not only the military but also by society. And if he was honest, he knew Gerald was right; both he and Tony would hate leaving NCIS.

Letting out a sigh of resignation, he took a seat next to Gerald but instead of finishing his breakfast, he claimed the man’s left hand and gripped it hard. He allowed a small smile when the gesture was returned. “What time are you and Tony meeting with Solo?”

In some strange twist of fate, Ducky had come to their rescue in regards to Tony and Gerald’s future living arrangements. Both Ducky and Gerald had maintained a close friendship despite the year of separation and had only grown closer once Gerald had returned home. Upon learning of their dilemma, Ducky had immediately gone to work on a solution that, believe it or not, was provided by his current companion, Napoleon Solo.

“After work.” Gerald lifted his head and forced a smile he obviously didn’t feel. “In fact, don’t expect us back until late tonight. Ducky and Napoleon plan to wine and dine us after our visit to the lawyer.”

Before reuniting with Ducky, Napoleon Solo had been living at his New York City residence. He had moved to his D.C. apartment right before Tony and Gerald left for San Diego and was living with Ducky by the time they returned. The apartment had remained empty for the past six months and was on the verge of being sold when Gerald shared his concerns with Ducky. Solo had wasted no time in offering up his D.C. residence and today Tony and Gerald would be signing a one year lease on the place with the option to renew if need be.

“Do you have a solid date for moving in?” Jethro swept his thumb repeatedly over Gerald’s knuckles and hummed with satisfaction when Gerald not only licked his lips in response but also faltered with his reply.

“Umm . . . I . . . you can . . . I mean . . . I’m sorry. What was your question?”

Jethro glanced at Higgins and mimicked the cat’s smug-as-hell look. “When can you move in?” He reached for his coffee and quietly cursed when he discovered it had gone cold. Squeezing Gerald’s hand once more, he stood and made his way over to the coffee pot. “We’ll need to rent a truck, plus arrange for getting your stuff out of storage.”

He poured a fresh helping of the strong, grow-hair-on-your-chest brew and nearly inhaled the entire amount. “Damn, that’s good,” he acknowledge before reaching for the Yeti travel mug recently given to him.

The surprise gift had arrived on his desk following a 3-day-long weekend they’d spent touring the Smithsonian. It had been their second attempt at visiting the institution together; the first time had been the weekend of the _Corvette Debacle_ , and he’d cancelled their plans without a second thought because of the case they were working. The travel mug was his reward, Gerald had claimed, for showing great patience when Tony had demanded they revisit the _Jim Henson Legacy_ exhibition for a second time.

Jethro shook his head; he was still having trouble with Tony’s infatuation with that pig puppet.

He filled the travel mug to the top. It would soon be time to leave for work and he needed his brew-to-go secured for departure. “How big’s the master bedroom? I’ll need its measurements before I go any further with the headboard I’m working on.”

He glanced at Gerald just in time to catch the flush stealing over the man’s features, and he couldn’t help but grin at its appearance. It was no secret he was currently working on a new bedroom suite for his room upstairs. The dimensions, specifically the size of the bed, had been altered once Tony and Gerald had entered his life.

Gerald had been helping him with the headboard’s design of hidden bookshelves the night they had acted upon their feelings for each other. The two of them had spent several hours constantly brushing against each other, accidently touching hands while passing tools back and forth. The somewhat intimate expression of desire had continued later when they were cuddling with Tony on the couch and the memory of those hours were now evidenced by the blush darkening Gerald’s cheeks.

“That’s not necessary, Jethro. We’ll get our bed out of storage. It’ll be fine.”

Once the decision had been made that Tony and Gerald would, indeed, be moving into a place of their own for propriety’s sake, Jethro had decided the new furniture would be his gift to them. Of course he had an ulterior motive in that the bedframe he was constructing was not only sturdier but would also accommodate the bodies of three grown men.

More room for . . .

Making sure he had Gerald’s full attention, he returned to the table and picked up a piece of bacon. He devoured it like a man starved for sustenance, which in truth he was but it wasn’t this crappy excuse for bacon his body craved.

Moving to stand beside Gerald, he lowered his voice into the octave guaranteed to cause complete loss of control and whispered, “I’ve seen your bed and it will **not** survive the activity I have in mind for it. Remember my suggestions?”

Gerald’s eyes grew large as sweat broke out on his upper lip, and it was all Jethro could do to keep from licking away the moisture. His inner Alpha immediately reminded him there was no reason on earth to stop him from doing exactly that and he obeyed the call to claim what belonged to him. He yanked Gerald out of his chair and laid waste to his mouth, leaving them both struggling for breath by the time the kiss ended.

“That is so fucking hot.”

Tony stood in the doorway, dressed in his best Ermengildo Zegna suit, and Jethro couldn’t help but snort with amusement at himself because never in his life would he have dreamt he would be able to identify the designer of not only Tony’s numerous suits but also his shirt, tie and shoes. Of course, his newfound knowledge of such nonsense rested firmly on the shoulders of his young lover and his constant bragging about his designer collection of clothing.

“Looking good, Slick.”

Gerald slipped into Tony’s arms and shared a kiss that had Jethro diamond hard in seconds. Instead of hiding his arousal as he had done in the past, he joined them and pressed his hardness against Gerald’s hip, reminding the man of what the future had in store for the two of them.

“Fuck,” Gerald moaned into the kiss he was still sharing with Tony.

“Soon,” Jethro promised.

Gripping both men by their necks, he offered up his aggressive brand of kissing and growled with hunger when a pair of matching erections branded his legs with their presence.

“Now, **that** is what **I** call hot,” he declared.

Stepping back, he took a minute to appreciate the breathless, dazed looks on the faces of both his men. He then slapped them on the back of their heads and announced, “Haul ass, you two. Time to get to going.”

 

++++++++

 

Jethro surveyed the empty office, verifying every person had exited as instructed. One last sweep of the area left his gaze fixed on Tony’s desk and the envelope with its crimson-red lip print. His heart raced in fear and anger . . . fear that Tony had been exposed to a deadly virus and anger toward the person who had placed his young lover’s life in jeopardy.

Reaching for his cellphone, he followed after his team. “Gerald,” he barked. “Call Ducky as soon as you get this message. As soon as possible, you hear me?”

The elevator closed on his furious whisper.

“Fuck.”

 

+++++++

 

Jethro reached for Tony after assuring Kate and McGee had exited the showers. He cursed silently when Tony backed away from him.

“No, no touching. Not until we’re sure I’m . . .” Tony broke off and lowered his gaze to the floor before rubbing a hand over his head and down his face. Jethro caught sight of the anguish in the man’s eyes before he hid them from his view.

“Gerald,” Tony began, then stopped to take a deep breath. “We need to call Gerald. Tell him what’s happened.”

Jethro forced himself to ignore the need to slam his fist into the wall. His anger was burning hotter and hotter and the fact that he could not touch Tony only added fuel to the fire. “He’s on lockdown, remember? Taking the last of his finals.”

Tapping his foot against Tony’s, he waited until the younger man lifted his head and returned his gaze. “I left a message on his cell. Told him to call Ducky ASAP.”

“Boss, if it’s---”

Jethro grabbed a face towel and used it to slap the back of Tony’s head. “There are no _ifs_ , DiNozzo. You **will** survive this and I **will** catch the son of a bitch who made the mistake of endangering the life of one of my best agents.” He marched to the door and held it open. “Let’s get downstairs.”

Tony stopped just short of exiting the room and offered him an air kiss. “Love you too, Boss,” he whispered.

“Damn straight, DiNozzo.”

 

+++++++

 

The force of a runaway train slammed into him the second he entered the waiting area assigned to Tony’s isolation unit at Bethesda. Familiar arms wrapped around him and crushed the air from his lungs.

“Tell me you shot the bastard that did this to Tony. Tell me he died slowly, in absolute agony, struggling for breath ‘til the very last second.”

After a good five minutes of serious hugging, Jethro forced Gerald to loosen his hold and take a step back. He cupped the sides of the man’s face and thumbed away the tears falling from his eyes.

“I caught the **bitch** , Gerald. And she’s gonna die sooner than later, you have my word on that.”

Uncaring of who saw them, Jethro sank his fingers in Gerald’s hair and pulled the younger man close again, kissing him hard and long. His inner Alpha howled with fury because of the emotional and physical torture his lovers were being put through by that vengeful bitch, Hanna Lowell. The woman had had no idea of how close she had actually come to eating a bullet earlier that day.

He stared at the automatic steel doors that separated the private waiting area from the actual isolation unit. Tony was behind those doors and his entire being was screaming with the need to see and hold his lover. The sound of Gerald’s panic-induced breathing reminded him of the lover suffering beside him.

“Ducky’s kept you in the loop, right?” Jethro silently acknowledged the person who had lent his support to Gerald over the past several hours. A single raised eyebrow followed by a nod of greeting and small secret smile was all Solo offered before returning his undivided attention to the magazine he held in his hands. Jethro frowned momentarily then wiped Solo’s existence from his mind. Gerald and Tony were his main concern and to hell with everyone else.

Gerald pulled free and swiped at the moisture staining his cheeks. “Yeah, he’s been coming out every thirty minutes or so.” Grabbing for one of the boxes of tissues scattered around the room, he took a moment to blow his nose. “Even shot some video so I could see---”

Jethro ignored the bruising grip of Gerald’s hand on his upper arm and again hauled him close. “He’s not dying, do you hear me? The bug had a suicide gene built into it. The damn thing’s been dead for nearly an hour.”

Fresh tears scalded the side of his throat and he struggled to make out Gerald’s muffled words.

“You haven’t seen him. He looks like . . .  he looks like . . .”

“ **Jackson**!”

Gerald jumped back as if shot and Jethro quickly took hold of his arms to keep him from falling over.

“Listen to me, Gerald. Tony is **not** dying. Not now, not tomorrow.” He lowered his voice and gentled his grip. “And when all of this is over, the three of us are going to revisit this preposterous idea of living apart.”

“But Jethro, we---”

“No! This job can go to hell as far as I’m concerned. You and Tony are what’s important. And if that means hauling anchor so we can live together in peace, then so be it.”

He grabbed a handful of Gerald’s shirt and pulled him within kissing range. “I need, hell, I love you and Tony and will not suffer one single day without the two of you by my side.” He smothered Gerald’s protest with a kiss that would have led straight to sex if it hadn’t been for their current situation.

Gasping for breath, he touched his forehead to that of Gerald’s and hoarsely instructed, “Wrap your head around that statement _and_ the fact that you will **never** sleep alone in that bed of yours again.”

Gerald returned his kiss with more passion than ever before. “I love you, Leroy Jethro Gibbs.”

Jethro allowed his hand to rest over Gerald’s heart for several seconds. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

 

+++++++

 

The sound of pneumatic doors closing woke Jethro and he frowned when he realized he had fallen asleep. Glancing at his watch he discovered it was 4:38am.

“Fuck!”

Without thought, he jerked abruptly upright and nearly fell out of his chair as a result because no way in hell had he been derelict of duty. He was there to stand guard over Tony and to fall asleep was the worst ---

Fingers brushed against the hand he had resting on the bed, the one clenching the bed sheets as if they were the only thing anchoring him to Tony and suddenly he couldn’t remember the reason for the mental tirade he was subjecting himself to. He stared a long time at the all too familiar fingers, desperately willing them to move again, silently begging them to touch his hand once more.

Tony.

Suddenly crippled with exhaustion both physically and emotionally, he crumpled in upon himself and concentrated on calming his racing heart and his accelerated breathing. “Tony is alive, Tony is alive, Tony is alive,” he hoarsely whispered to himself.

Jethro tore his eyes away from the hand he’d been fervently gripping from the moment he had sat down beside the hospital bed until he had fallen asleep. A quick glance informed him Tony was still asleep and once his focus widened, he discovered Gerald, softly snoring, sitting opposite him, his head pillowed on Tony’s forearm.

Vacating his chair, he couldn’t help groaning with pain when his arthritic hips and knees protested the change in position. He ignored his discomfort as usual and moved to the opposite side of the bed so that he could press a kiss first to Gerald’s forehead and then to Tony’s.

Heated words had been exchanged between himself and pretty-boy Dr. Pitt when he’d demanded Gerald be allowed inside the isolation chamber to sit with Tony. His temper, which was already on a short fuse, had nearly ignited but Ducky had interceded, gotten Director Morrow on the phone and Gerald was allowed in without further protest.

The second Gerald was seated at Tony’s side, he had turned and ordered Kate home and had blocked her access to the isolation chamber until she complied. He’d even arranged a ride home for her by capitalizing on Solo’s good graces.

The second Kate was gone, he had moved to Tony’s side and with Gerald’s hand clasped in his, had sat in the hospital chair from Hell watching over his two lovers. More than once he’d whispered words of reassurance to Gerald and had even gone as far as hauling him inside the unit’s single occupant bathroom so that Gerald could seek solace in his arms without prying eyes witnessing his emotional meltdown.

“We’re gonna get through this,” he whispered to his two sleeping lovers.

He threaded his fingers through Tony’s limp hair, tenderly brushing it back from his forehead before resting a hand on his chest and reassuring himself his lover was alive. How many times had he done exactly that in past eight hours? A dozen times? Maybe more? It obviously hadn’t been enough and he had no doubt he would continue to do so until his heart was no longer held hostage by the fear that had invaded his world the instant Tony opened that fucking letter.

Gerald’s snoring morphed into panicked gasps.

“. . . I need to  . . . you don’t understand . . . he’s my . . . you’ve got to let me . . .”

Jethro knelt beside Gerald and rubbed a hand up and down the man’s back until his breathing evened out and the soft snoring resumed. “Tony’s right here.” He placed Gerald’s hand in the exact spot his own hand had occupied. “Feel his heart. Feel him breathing. He’s right here and nobody’s going to keep you from him. Not on my watch.”

“ . . . Jethro . . .”

“Right here. I’m right here.”

He laid his hand over Gerald’s and glanced up at Tony, his eyes filling with moisture and his throat tightening with emotions he knew he would never be able to explain.

“I will always be right here, for you, for Tony. I love you both.” He closed his eyes and allowed the tears to fall. “You two are my world and it’s time everyone knows it.”

When the morning shift arrived, he remained where he was, sitting next to the hospital bed, holding Tony’s hand in his left and Gerald’s in his right. It was the best damn day of his life.

 

\-- end --

 


	11. Revisiting the New Equation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A final check-in with Gerald and his men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically the epilogue but NOT the last time I'll visit this universe. I love this threesome and will definitely add to the chapters of their lives. LOL! 
> 
> Major thanks to all who have come along for the ride. I've appreciated every comment, every kudo and every hit.

 

 

The weight of a familiar stare nudged his subconscious and, without looking away from his new iPad, Gerald handed over his last piece of turkey sausage. He finished going through both his work and personal email accounts before glancing up and checking on his breakfast companions.

Higgins caught his attention first.

The aging feline was sitting directly in front of Jethro, his unwavering glare daring the man to a battle of wills. It was a forgone conclusion who would win and within seconds, Jethro was getting up from the table and heading toward the fridge, grousing the whole way.

“Damn cat. Who the hell---”

“You did!” a chorus of voices rang out.

Chuckling, Gerald met Tony’s eyes over the edge of the Sunday comics his lover was currently perusing. He couldn’t see Tony’s mouth but he knew without a doubt it was split wide with a grin.

“You only have yourself to blame,” Tony quipped behind the safety of his section of the newspaper.

Still grumbling, Jethro returned to the table carrying the wide-mouth coffee cup belonging exclusively to Higgins. He tested the mixture of milk and coffee with the tip of his index finger before handing it over to the Omnipotent Ruler of their Universe.

“Here. You happy?”

Higgins momentarily ignored his morning tribute of java in lieu of another staring contest with Jethro.

“No.”

An ear flicked forward.

“You heard me. No.”

Higgins lifted a paw.

“Touch it and you die.”

Shaking his head, Gerald reached across the table and plucked free a piece of bacon from the pile on Jethro's plate and fed it to Higgins. The cat demonstrated his appreciation with a lick of his greasy fingers.

“Play nice, Jethro. It’s just bacon.”

Jethro plopped down in his chair and used the headlines section of the newspaper to shield his plate from Higgins. “That’s **not** the issue. It’s REAL bacon and I’m not sharing. So there.”

Gerald collected his empty plate and coffee mug and rose from the table. He stopped next to Jethro and disciplined the older man with a kiss that totally distracted him from his food.

“Hey! No fair!”

Gerald tossed another piece of bacon in Higgin’s direction. The cat quickly devoured the extra treat before turning his attention to his milk-coffee.

“Don’t get your regulation BVD’s in a wad. There’s more warming on the stove.”

Jethro enthusiastically crunched his way through several pieces of bacon before issuing a groan that would have won MTV’s Best Pornographic Sound 2011 if such an award was given. Again Gerald met Tony’s gaze. “You’d think we never indulged him.”

“Well, you are pretty strict regarding his diet,” Tony reminded him.

Gerald bristled slightly. “Yeah, and when he’s 80 and still fucking our brains out, I expect a major round of applause.

“Why stop at 80? Pretty sure I’ll still be fucking your brains out when I’m 100.”

Tony sprayed his comics with coffee while Gerald frantically grabbed for the plate he’d dropped when Jethro made his amazing, albeit much anticipated, prediction.

Recovering first, Tony leaned toward Jethro and shared a quick kiss with him. “More power to you, babe.”

“How ‘bout more bacon?”

Gerald slapped the back of Jethro's head before continuing to the kitchen. He transferred the remaining bacon to his empty plate and collected a refill of coffee. Returning to his seat, he grinned at the cat that was currently positioned in front of Jethro's now empty plate.

“Scram, Jumbo. You’ve had your daily allotment of artery-clogging fat.”

Higgins didn’t budge.

Rolling his eyes, he traded plates with Jethro and attempted to ignore the ongoing battle between their two Alpha males by collecting his iPad and resuming his search for an appropriate gift for Jethro's fifty-fifth birthday. Tony had already purchased his gift, a brass bell to hang above the ownership plaque Jethro had carved and mounted on the wall next to the door that lead from the outside deck into the kitchen.

Gerald glanced in the direction of said door and saw, through its window, the predicted storm clouds gathering on the far horizon.

“Slick? Did you cover the jacuzzi like I asked?”

“Uhhhhhh? Yes?” Tony threw down the comics and rushed for the door. “Be back in a sec. I think I left my laptop in my car.”

Gerald shared a knowing look with Jethro. “He forgot.”

Jethro shoved the disobedient paw reaching for his plate back in the direction of its owner. “Doesn’t he always?”

Chuckling in agreement, Gerald turned his attention to the bay window overlooking the outdoor deck and grinned widely when he saw Tony scrambling down the stairs that led to the jacuzzi.

Their lives had changed drastically following Tony’s near brush with death five years earlier. Both he and Jethro had literally lived at the hospital during the days Tony had spent in ICU. The time together had solidified their relationship, and Tony, even as sick as he was, had recognized the change and drawn strength from it. As a result, he was discharged from the hospital in record time.

Unfortunately, the road to full recovery for Tony had not been an easy one. To say the man was the worst patient of all time was an understatement of galactic proportions. Tony had sulked and whined about everything under the sun, including the supplemental oxygen he’d been forced to carry with him in order to keep from suffocating to death. Jethro had dealt with their recalcitrant patient in typical Gibbs style – a slap to the head and a scowl that threatened dire consequences. Tony had quickly learned to adhere to the newest set of Gibbs Rules and had resumed his daily activities, minus the oxygen, in less than six months.

Glancing up at the ceiling, Gerald again offered a heartfelt recommendation with whatever entity was listening, _I hereby nominate Jethro Gibbs for early sainthood. He has definitely earned it._

Hearing laughter, he glanced out the bay window and discovered Tony chasing after Cam, the newest member of their family. Tony had found the senior yellow lab wandering up and down the private road leading to their home. It had been quite apparent from the animal’s dirty and emaciated appearance that he had been abandoned and they had immediately welcomed the dog into the family once Higgins had given his seal of approval.

He watched Tony for several minutes before looking back at Jethro, who was totally engrossed in his paper now that all the REAL bacon had been consumed.

Jethro and Tony had both turned in their resignations shortly after Tony’s release from the hospital and the three of them had wasted no time openly declaring their relationship with each other to their friends and family. His parents, still to this day, did not understand his choice to include Jethro in his life but had, somehow, found it within their hearts to welcome him into the family despite the man’s somewhat brusque behavior.

Gerald grinned. He could still see the look of fear on Jethro's face the first time he’d attended the Annual Jackson Family Fun and Food Fest. The family had grown so large they had actually moved the annual reunion to a local park, and Jethro had nearly refused to leave their vehicle when he caught sight of the crowd of people rushing toward them the second they arrived.

“That reminds me.”

“Hmmm?”

Gerald pulled up the calendar on his iPad and checked next month’s list of events. “You haven’t forgotten what’s on the agenda for the 4th of July?”

“Pretty sure I’ll be in LA that weekend.” Jethro raised the newspaper high enough to hide his face. “Guess me and Tony will miss all the fun.”

All three of them had re-entered the workforce in some form or fashion once they’d moved away from D. C., and the LA trip Jethro was desperately hoping would save him from another Jackson family reunion was related to Tony’s new occupation.

Author.

It was still a complete mystery to both of them how McGee had convinced Tony to give writing a try during the long months of his recovery. The young agent had quickly picked up on Tony’s extreme displeasure with his enforced confinement and had spent countless evenings encouraging him to put words to paper. He’d even gone as far as buying Tony a manual typewriter similar to the one he owned. At first Tony had ridiculed McGee and his gift but soon discovered _banging on the old clacker_ was an activity that didn’t task his compromised respiratory system AND it provided him with another opportunity to outshine McGee.

By the time they moved into their new home, Tony had penned a series of crime novels loosely based on his years with NCIS. Much to the surprise of all, including McGee, Tony’s first published book claimed the number one spot on the NY Times Best Sellers List within six weeks of its release and was currently being considered for the big screen. Tony had already been approached by several big-name directors, and the trip to LA was a meet and greet with not only Jerry Bruckheimer but also Ron Howard. 

He again checked his calendar. “Tony’s not due to leave for LA until after the reunion. Good try, though.”

“Damn.”

Gerald couldn’t help but laugh. “I promise I’ll run interference if Aunt Ernestine comes this year.” The story of Jethro's unfavorable comments regarding Aunt Earnestine’s Famous Squirrel Jambalaya and the verbal brawl that had followed with her and her deaf-as-a-doorknob husband, Ernest, would soon reach legendary status,

“Can you add your Uncle Wendall to the watchlist? He seems to think I’m one of his war buddies he served with during the Korean War.” Jethro folded his section of the newspaper and placed it on the pile in front of Tony’s chair. “I know I’m old but I’m not **that** old.”

Reaching out, Gerald captured Jethro's hand and rubbed his thumb over the commitment band the man wore on his left ring finger. It matched the rings both he and Tony wore.

“You’re not old in any form or fashion and the hours you spent riding my ass last night is a definite testament to that statement. Should I share the news of your vim and vigor with Uncle Wendall?”

“Only if you’re prepared to do CPR on the old geezer.”

They both chuckled.

“Speaking of riding ass . . .”

Gerald quickly stole a look at Jethro's face and not only did his heartrate perk up but his dick did as well. “Yes?”

“I’m feeling the need to use the jacuzzi tonight. How’s the weather forecast?”

Seconds passed while Gerald struggled to remember how to breathe, how to talk, how to think. A nighttime visit to the jacuzzi was Jethro-speak for . . . ‘I feel the need to bottom for you but I don’t want to come right out and ask for it.’ 

The sexual dynamics of their relationship had quickly been established the second Jethro had added himself to the equation. He was, without a doubt or objection, their Alpha male and rarely did he submit sexually to the two of them. When he did it was usually Tony who took over as top. Occasionally he, himself, topped but his took the form of topping from a distance, meaning he rode Tony’s ass while Tony rode Jethro’s.

And it’s not that he had a problem with fucking Jethro, it’s just not something he absolutely needed to do. He enjoyed bottoming for both his men, loved it so much that when Jethro actually did request they switch, he found he required somewhat of an advanced warning so that he could wrap his head around the temporary shift in their roles.

He finally found his voice, although it wasn’t until he’d cleared his throat several times because that’s what lust did to him; choked him right up. “Uh . . . rain should be out of the area by this evening.”

Jethro spent several seconds examining his face and obviously found the answer he wanted if the grin that appeared was any indication. “Great.”

Gerald pressed the heel of his hand against the bulge taking shape between his thighs. Shit! He’d never been this excited about fucking Jethro and if his dick didn’t calm down, his heart wouldn’t be able to handle the intensity of tonight’s activities.

His neck was gently gripped seconds before his mouth was possessed and ravished to the point where he seriously considered dialing 911 for what he was sure would be impending cardiac failure.

“Jethro . . . oh fuck . . . I mean . . . Jethro, please!”

The sharp pain of Jethro's bite nearly pushed him over the edge but he managed to hang onto his control by the skin of his teeth, pun unintentional. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) Jethro was not concerned about him maintaining control and wasted no trouble liberating his dick from his jeans.

“I can’t wait to have **this** inside my ass tonight,” the older man huskily admitted.

One expert stroke and squeeze and the universe shattered. By the time all the pieces came back together, his happily depleted dick was back where it belonged and Jethro was washing his hands at the kitchen sink.

“You bastard.”

Jethro finished wiping his hands dry before smirking at him. “I do my best.”

After sucking in several deep breaths, Gerald forced his attention back to his iPad. He blinked several times but couldn’t seem to make sense of the screen.

“Uh . . . Um . . . shit.” He waved a hand at Jethro, hopefully preventing his over-protective Alpha from hurrying to his side. “I’m okay. Just give me a sec to recover what’s left of my shattered gray matter.”

A cool, damp cloth was pressed against the side of his neck before swiping across his face and down his throat.

“Thanks. Love ya.”

Jethro pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Same here.”

His brain was up and running by the time Jethro made it back to the kitchen, and he didn’t waste any time in sharing his thoughts once again with whatever entity was listening. _Thank you for sending that man to me and Tony. God, I love him_.

He watched Jethro for several minutes before glancing down at the calendar app still running on his iPad. “Speaking of the reunion, Genevieve has assured me she and Andrew will be there, AND she’s bringing D’Shay.”

He nearly melted into a pile of goo when he saw the transformation that took place on Jethro's face at the mention of the Jackson family’s newest addition. It was a known fact that Jethro was a sucker for kids of all ages, and this trait had really come into play once he was adopted into the Jackson clan.

Not only had Jethro gone out of his way to learn the names of all the grandchildren but had the list of their birthdays nailed to the wall above the decades-old Mr. Coffee he kept in his workshop. He never, NEVER missed a birthday, made every effort to attend all special occasions, and had suffered through several instructional sessions with their local Apple rep and could now Facetime, text and email like a pro. His complete dedication to all of the grandchildren was what had finally won over the heart of his twin sister.

Jethro began wiping down all the kitchen counters. “Better get busy finishing that cradle I’ve been working on.”

“I would say that’s a definite Y. E. S. considering the reunion’s in less than three weeks.”

Gerald hid his grin. Jethro was currently making a big production out of folding the kitchen towel and placing it back in its proper place. Both he and Tony were forever leaving the towels on the counters instead of hanging them where they could dry and that particular straw had finally broken the camel’s back, meaning his. “Good boy,” he praised while collecting the abandoned breakfast dishes and utensils.

“Humph.” Jethro relieved him of his burden and expertly stacked everything in the dishwasher.

Gerald returned to the kitchen table and gathered up the placemats he insisted they use. The cypress table was one of Jethro's creations and he would be damned if he allowed its surface to be marred. “I take it the package that arrived yesterday were the new carving tools you ordered?”

“Yep.”

Jethro had literally thrown himself into his woodworking upon Tony’s discharge from the hospital. His version of hands-on self-counseling had resulted in a second boat that was sold to none other than his former boss, Tom Morrow. Once they were settled in their new home, Jethro had turned his attention to other projects such as children’s toys and furniture, much of which he now sold at their town’s local Farmer’s Market. An outdoor workshop had been built on the eastern edge of their property and was nearly filled to the rafters with tools, supplies and items that were either in progress of being built or waiting to be sold.

“I swear if you buy any more tools we’re gonna have to build another shed just to house them.” He grabbed up the discarded newspaper and tossed it in its designated recycle bin.

“Hey, can I help it the rocking chairs are so popular?” Jethro rinsed out the coffee maker’s carafe and set a new pot to brew. “Besides, I thought I would start adding a carved design to the headrests.”

Gerald allowed himself to be pulled into a casual embrace and took advantage of his new position by running his fingers through Jethro's hair. He hated how thin it had become over the past year but loved its silver-white color.

“Can’t wait to see the new design.” He leaned forward for a kiss that had him humming with extreme pleasure, and his satisfaction with his life increased a hundred fold when Tony stepped up behind him and added himself to the hug.

“Those chairs are so popular because you sell them so damn cheap. I doubt you make back enough money to cover the cost of materials.” Tony stole a kiss from them both before moving over to the coffee maker and stealing a fresh cup before the brew was finished dripping. “Good thing money’s not a problem.”

Money was indeed no longer a problem for them. Unbeknownst to all three of them, Hanna Lowell had arranged for her estate, upon her death, to award Tony a multi-million dollar settlement for the pain and suffering she had caused him because of her criminal vendetta against the NCIS. After donating nearly one-half of their new-found wealth to charities assisting wounded vets, they had taken a portion of the remaining money and purchased Napoleon Solo’s cabin and its surrounding property for their new home.

Gerald glanced around the room, taking note of all the changes that had been made to their home in the last several years.

It had quickly become evident the cabin was too small for the three of them and their growing circle of family and friends. Jethro had contacted an old buddy of his from his time in Desert Storm and within a month, the former Marine turned architect, had presented them with the blueprints for enlarging their 1-bedroom dwelling. The construction on their home took nearly two years and that was only because Jethro had insisted they do most of it themselves.

Gerald rubbed his right thigh and pictured the dime-size scar that permanently marred his skin. It would forever remind him of those two labor-intensive years. “If I ever see a nail gun in Tony’s hand again, I’m outta here,” he muttered.

The cabin now boasted a second story which was entirely theirs, a master suite complete with fireplace and private balcony. There was also the master bath that, at Tony’s insistence, had been built to include a glass-enclosed steam shower similar to the one he had fallen in love with so many years ago.

His own request had resulted in the addition of an office-slash-study complete with a wall of floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the small lake at the west edge of their property. He had changed majors upon Tony and Jethro's resignations and was still working on his degree in veterinarian medicine when they moved into their new home three years ago. The new addition had been the perfect place for him to study and Tony to work on his novels.

Once he’d graduated and passed boards, he’d gone to work with the local ASPCA and was currently pursuing a specialty in Abandoned Animal Welfare and had two more years of residency left before obtaining his certification. The study was still his place of refuge, even though it was frequently invaded by both pets and lovers.

Cam trotted by them at that moment, making sure he got his fair share of head scratching before he went in search of his feline sovereign. He watched the dog investigate every room in sight before hightailing it upstairs.

The first floor had been enlarged to include two additional bedrooms, two bathrooms and a room that could only be described as an indulgence in Tony’s obsession with movies. The room included a snack bar, three overstuffed leather sectionals, a flat screen TV that, in his estimation, was obscenely huge and an antique popcorn machine that, much to everyone’s surprise, made the best popcorn ever tasted. All four walls were plastered with both vintage and present-day movie posters.

“How many times have I told you **not** to do that?!”

Gerald stepped back and allowed Jethro to chastise Tony for touching the newly purchased Cuisinart Brew Master before it had finished its cycle. It came as no surprise when the chastisement ended with Jethro speechless and gasping for breath and Tony smirking.

“Who’s up for a late morning nap?” their King of Kissing asked. “Remember I leave for New York tomorrow afternoon.” Tony’s newest book had just been released and the invitations for interviews were pouring in.

Gerald searched his mental calendar and came up short on which shows Tony would be featured on next week.

Reading his mind as always, Tony answered, “I’ve got three interviews starting Tuesday. One with _Good Morning America_ , one with Rachel Ray and one with those fine ladies from _The Talk_.”

Tony didn’t wait for their acceptance of his offer and began urging them toward the stairs. Gerald was more than willing to spend quality cuddle time with both his men but found he couldn’t help but chuckle at the forlorn look Jethro gave the freshly brewed pot of coffee. A kiss and expert grope of his ass thoroughly distracted him and Jethro allowed himself to be pulled away from his undisputed shrine of worship.

At the base of the stairs Tony began to divest them of their clothes. Gerald helped as much as he could but it was hard to concentrate when his tits were being tortured by fingernails desperately in need of a . . .

“Manicure!”

“Manicures are for wusses.”

“Hey!”

Jethro quickly pressed a kiss to Tony’s perfectly manicured nails. “I stand corrected. You’re the exception.”

“Damn straight!”

Gerald was missing his shirt and jeans by the time they reached their bedroom. Jethro was yanking off his own socks with one hand while assisting Tony with the removal of his silk boxers. The three of them collapsed on the bed and were soon 100% naked. He yelped when Tony’s elbow connected with his lower back and slapped at Jethro's hand when it wormed its way under his shoulders in search of the lube they’d stashed under the pillows last night.

“Wait! Wait!”

His lovers froze long enough for him to claim his rightful position for a quality late-morning cuddle – flat on his back in the middle of the bed with Jethro on his right and Tony on his left. He collected Jethro's arm and wrapped it around his waist before reaching for Tony and allowing him to enclose both him and Jethro in a loose embrace.

“Perfect.”

The three of them shared relaxed kisses and lazy caresses for a good thirty minutes and were about ready to engage in some serious lovemaking when Tony piped up with a question for Jethro.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us to New York? A certain someone is not happy in the least about you staying behind.”

Gerald slapped at the finger stabbing him in the chest. “I think I can talk for myself, thank you very much.” He turned to look at Jethro. “Seriously, come with us.”

Blunt nails raked the skin directly above his pubes, causing him to shudder helplessly. The smile of approval on Jethro's face at his reaction only prolonged the trembling. “Jethro, we both want---” Jethro stopped him with a simple bite of his right tit.

“We discussed this, remember? It’s your anniversary. Go and celebrate.”

Gerald watched as Jethro shared several open-mouth, breath-stealing kisses with Tony before switching his attention back to him. Lowering his head, Jethro repeatedly nipped at his shoulder and clavicle. “I’ll be fine,” the older man insisted. “Besides, someone has to take care of the kids.”

Gerald wrapped his fingers around the erection drilling his left hip. “Would you please talk some sense into him?” he asked Tony, who at the minute was attempting to permanently mark his neck with the Hickey to End All Hickies.

Jethro sneakily prevented Tony from talking by expertly slipping a hand between in his thighs and tugging on his balls. “Tony and I had our week in New Orleans visiting Pride and his crew. Now it’s your turn.”

For some reason Jethro's refusal to join them in New York made Gerald see red and he physically expressed his anger by completely removing himself from what should have been a late morning, care-free cuddle.

Ignoring the muttered curses, he brusquely vacated the bed and stood at its foot, hands on his hips, his chest heaving with agitated breaths, his angry gaze fixated on his two partners.

“Enough! I’ve had enough!”

Tony was the first to make a move. Gerald lifted an eyebrow in his direction and Tony wisely sank back down on the mattress. Jethro had one foot on the floor but he also acquiesced once the Eyebrow of Doom lifted even higher.

Satisfied his two lovers protests were equally contained, Gerald started in on the one problem that had been driving him insane for the past five years.

“As of this moment, there is no more you and I or you and Tony or me and Tony. All of that stops right now. You hear me? Right now.”

He waited a few seconds and continued on once both Tony and Jethro, albeit confused considering the looks on their faces, nodded their heads.

“From this day forward, there is a new equation this household will abide by. Can anyone guess what it is?”

Of course, it was Tony that raised his hand and Gerald couldn’t help but smile. Tony to the rescue as always.

“If I guess right, do I get a kiss?”

His anger immediately evaporated and he relaxed his stance and took a deep breath. “You can always have a kiss, you idiot.”

“Just checking.”

Tony got to his hands and knees and crawled across the bed in his direction. Balancing on the edge of the bed, Tony spent several seconds nuzzling and tongue fucking his navel. Gerald batted away the hand aiming for his renewed erection because one touch from Tony and the whole conversation would derail.

“You had something to say?”

Tony pressed a kiss to his tummy before kneeling on the bed. Without looking, he reached back for Jethro, pulling him forward and hugging him to his side. He then collected Jethro's left hand in his left hand and held them up. Gerald immediately took them both in his left hand, making sure all three of them could see the commitment bands they wore.

Tony took time to kiss Jethro's temple before answering, “The new equation is . . . simply put . . . us. You, me and Jethro. Where one goes, the other two follow.” He laid a loud smacker of a kiss on Jethro's cheek. “Or vice versa. The Three Musketeers, that’s us. One for all and all for one.”

Gerald felt his heart catch and was once again stunned by how much he loved Tony. Leaning down, he shared a long kiss with Tony but then turned and shared an equally long one with Jethro.

“Tony’s right. I don’t care that it’s our anniversary. I don’t want to go to New York without you.” He placed a finger beneath Jethro's chin and tilted his head up. “I hate it when you’re not with us. I can’t rest at night without both of you beside me.”

Releasing their hands, Gerald stepped forward and cupped the back of both their necks. He pulled them forward until all three of their foreheads were touching. “The new equation is one plus one plus one. Three. No removing one’s self from the equation because you think the other two would benefit from time alone. And yes, Jethro, I hear the words coming out of my mouth.”

He was the culprit in regards to the past New Orleans trip and the upcoming LA trip. Jethro was now doing the same with the New York trip, removing himself from the equation so that he and Tony could spend time together celebrating the seven year anniversary of their first official date as an engaged couple.

For a second time, his heart caught in his chest but this time it was fear that caused the stumble in rhythm.

“Now, of course, if either one of you would rather I---”

“NO!”

“Hell, no!”

Gerald lost his breath when he was unceremoniously yanked down on the bed and smothered by the weight of his two lovers. Tears fell from his eyes unheeded and he couldn’t help but laugh when impatient kisses wiped away their existence.

Within minutes impatience gave way to passion which drove all three of them to a completion that solidified their unique equation once and for all.

“Where you two go, I’ll be there. Count on it,” Jethro confirmed the second they all collapsed back down on the mattress.

“Ditto,” Tony drowsily mumbled from his place at the bottom of the fuck pile.

“Same here.” Gerald slid off Jethro's back and fell beside Tony. He acknowledged the gentle cleansing that followed with an exhausted pat to Jethro's head and was nearly asleep by the time Jethro returned to bed. Wasting no time he turned on his side and took his position as middle spoon with Jethro tucked against his front and Tony plastering himself to his rear.

His life was officially awesome.

“Us three, always.”

“Always.”

“Dit . . .zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz”

 

The end

 (Maybe?)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who enjoy original characters, relationship-based stories, may I point you in the direction of my [Best Buds](http://archiveofourown.org/series/180710) series. You won't be disappointed.

**Author's Note:**

> [You can follow me and my eclectic tastes on Tumblr!](http://angelise7.tumblr.com/)


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